


The Lion's Roar

by bellwetherr



Series: All This And Heaven Too [2]
Category: The Last Kingdom (TV), The Warrior Chronicles | The Saxon Stories - Bernard Cornwell
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Complicated Relationships, F/M, Female Friendship, Female Protagonist, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Love Confessions, Love Triangles, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Sexism, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:28:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 97,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23607556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellwetherr/pseuds/bellwetherr
Summary: Who knew a Danish raid would lead Lucia to freedom? Freedom- a feeling she had been craving since she was a child, stolen from her homeland to serve a cruel master as a house slave. Among the surprises of her escape? A run in with a group of warriors and a path to a destiny she never expected.
Relationships: Finan (The Last Kingdom)/Original Character(s), Uhtred of Bebbanburg/Original Character(s)
Series: All This And Heaven Too [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1805026
Comments: 422
Kudos: 403





	1. the pale morning sings of forgotten things

**Author's Note:**

> This immediately follows season three and kind of creates a new timeline of sorts.

She awoke before the sun.

Lucia shifted against the thin sheet she used as a blanket, raising her arms above her head to stretch her body before she turned and twisted to her side. Her bed was nothing more than a few layers of linens on a bed of straw in the barn. It was blessing enough to be away from the household, she knew asking for more would offer her nothing but a handful of lashes. 

Her last mistake still felt tender as she rose to her feet. 

There was work to be done. 

She moved swiftly, quietly, and did her best to prepare the house for the day ahead. She changed out of her bed clothes and into a dress fresh from the laundry. The frock was a pale blue linen, the seams threadbare but the only suitable option for staying cool in the summer heat. As she tied her thick dark waves back into a modest braid, she kept an eye on the window, making sure the sun did not rise too quickly. 

With the morning porridge simmering at the hearth, she moved to her outside chores, feeding the pigs and the chickens as the sun started to rise above the horizon. There was a warmth in the air but she couldn’t help but feel a chill creep through her skin. 

“Lucia-”

The bark came from the back door and her body went stiff, the bucket in her hands banging against her knees. She turned to find the head of her household, Lord Tredan of Elentone, standing with his arms crossed against his chest. 

He was a barrel of a man, his black hair thinning at the crown of his head but his beard thick and dangerously close to the top of his potbelly. His skin was fair but pockmarked and his eyes, beady and black, bore into her as he lingered in the doorway.

She had been tending his home for nearly thirteen years now, ever since he made purchase of her on the slave market. She had only been twelve years old. She would never forget the look on his face when he hooked his thick finger under her chin, forcing her to look him in the eye even as she struggled against her chains. _“Aren’t you a pretty little thing?”_

“Where is my tunic- the gold one?”

“Your tunic-” she paused, her brow furrowing as she tried to think. “Oh, yes, Lord, it is on the clothes line- the stain was a bit stubborn, so I thought to treat it-”

“Bring it to me at once. You will dress me as we are expecting a visitor this morning.”

She acquiesced, placing the bucket on a small stump near her before moving to the clothes line. She began to pick the clothespins off the line, taking the few pieces of clothing into her arms and folding them into the basket at her feet. She was careful with his tunic; she knew it was his favorite. 

“I said _now,_ maid-” came his growl and she pressed her lips together as she nodded, the golden embroidered fabric at the very top of the pile as she hurried inside the house.

_Pessime et nequissime!_

“Apologies, Lord, I thought it best to to bring everything inside-”

His hand moved quickly, the rings on his fingers scraping her skin as he connected with her jaw. The basket dropped from her grasp. She froze, her head bowing slightly. She gingerly touched at her face, feeling the sting of what she knew to be new scars.

“What you thought means little to me,” he said. “Now, come.”

She nodded, reaching to grab the tunic from the top of the pile, hurrying after him toward the bedroom. As she followed, his wife Wilda came into view. She was still in her dressing gown, her long red hair tied in a thick twine at the nape of her neck. She hardly spared Lucia a glance as she moved into the main dining room. 

“Once you are finished with my husband I will expect my breakfast served, maid.”

Lucia sucked in a breath. _Yes, Lady, as I have done for you every morning since my first morning here._ It was as if they reveled in reminding her of her place. Over and over again.

If only they knew who she had been once.

Even if she was afraid to admit she had trouble remembering herself. 

“Yes, Lady, I will-”

But she could not finish her words as a sudden and piercing scream rang in her ears.

\--

Lucia wasn’t sure how long she had been running. 

It had all happened so quickly- the barreling of hooves, the shrieks and screams and wails of what could only be utter torment as each home was raided in a horrifying swiftness. It was as if Lucia hadn’t a moment to think, just move. If she stopped for any moment, she knew the past thirteen years as a slave to Tredan and his wife would seem like a distant and even pleasant memory. She knew what the Danes did to young women, she had heard the stories. 

She had to keep moving.

She could feel the sting of tears in her eyes as she tried to navigate the woods, keeping one foot in front of the other. If she fell, if she were to tumble, she knew that the Dane would catch her. He had threatened as much as she broke from his hold back at the village.

It was the one to first break entry into Tredan’s home- he was a wolfish looking creature, tall and broad with charcoal smudged around his eyes and these markings along his arms and neck and face, nothing like she had ever seen before. And he wouldn’t stop smiling. Not when Wilda started to scream, or when Tredan pushed Lucia out of the way to beg for his life- not even when the roof started to cave in around them, bits of thatching and tar falling to the floor beside them, the flames of the torches setting ablaze everything.

“Take _her_ -” Tredan pleaded, beckoning to Lucia. “Take the slave girl- let me go and she will be your gift-”

“She will be my gift and I will kill you anyway.”

Lucia had fallen against the dining table when Tredan shoved her. She was frozen, her body not catching up to her brain at that moment. _Run, run, run!_ But she couldn’t. She clutched the edge of the table, to keep herself steady as her knees began to buckle. He was moving toward her, and Lucia watched as he grabbed Wilda and, without wasting a moment, brought a blade across her throat. The Lady of Elentone was gripping at her neck, gurgling through the blood as she sank to the floor. 

“ _Wilda_ -” 

Tredan stood there for a brief moment- his mouth agape at the state of his wife. Lucia thought he would reach for her, hold her in his arms as she died, but no- it was only that one moment he gave her before turning on his heel and rushing toward the door.

“You are a weak little man,” the Dane laughed, now grabbing for his axe. “It gives me no pleasure to kill such a coward-”

The aim of his axe was precise, hitting Tredan square in the back. 

It was a surreal feeling that washed over her, she had been dreaming of the day Tredan and Wilda would be gone from her life but this- she had never imagined this. 

“Come here little girl,” the Dane turned back to Lucia. “I think you will be a fine pet.”

As if her survival skills were finally clicking into place, she scrambled, moving away from the table to avoid his grasp, hoping the length of it would give her some kind of escape. But he was quick. And surprisingly agile in his movements. He grabbed at her forearm and he tugged her close to him. They were so close she could feel his hot breath on her face. 

She winced.

“Do not fight me,” he said, his voice even. “Make this easy on yourself-”

But Lucia couldn’t let this be her fate, not now, not after what she had survived already.

“Tredan has wealth here,” she told him, her heart thumping madly in her chest. “Money and jewels he hid from his wife - here under the floorboards - I can, I- I will take you-”

“Oh, will you?” the Dane laughed. “A good pet you are already! Show me.”

He spun her away from him and she faltered, her breath catching as the smoke started to reach her lungs. She could feel the heat from the flames around them and she wondered if she would even have the time-

“Where-” he demanded, and Lucia obliged as he shoved her again, moving toward the hearth and pointing to a small embroidered rug at the base. “Dig it up, _now_ -”

She dropped to her knees and pushed the rug aside. There was a loose floorboard here, one she was constantly catching herself on when cleaning the soot and ashes at the end of each day- Tredan had paid her no mind when she told him of the damage. She could almost thank his carelessness now as her fingers felt around for the edge.

“Tell me, girl, what is it he’s got in there-” the Dane was leaning over, nearly breathing down her neck as she finally pulled it loose. 

Without a second to waste, she whipped it around, catching the Dane with the rusty edge of the nail still embedded in the floorboard.

He let out a wild moan as he clutched at his face, the nail taking a chunk of skin from his cheek, blood pouring between his fingers. 

She had no time to waste and she scrambled to her feet, the Dane falling back on his heels as she fled from him.

She was nearly to the door when he grabbed at her ankle and brought her down, her body landing with a hard thud. She could hear a sickening crack in the bridge of her nose as she smacked her face on the floor. 

“You _bitch-_ ” the Dane snarled as he tried to flip her onto her back and climb on top of her, his free hand pinning her wrist to the ground, his legs pressing against her waist. “I’ll kill you-”

But Lucia wasn’t done- she had been so close, she couldn’t give up now. 

She wrestled in his grasp, her other hand reaching up to tear at his face. She connected with his wound, pressing her thumb into it, pushing hard as she wriggled underneath him and he screamed out in pain. 

She found her footing, her knee connecting with his groin and he fell to his back, groaning. Lucia gasped for air as the flames started to overtake everything around them. The smoke brought tears to her eyes. But she kicked herself back, pushing herself to her feet. She fled out the back door.

“I will find you-” were the last words she heard.

Blood was seeping into her mouth from the break in her nose, and she wiped at her face as she started to run, her body pushing her to keep moving. The barn was ablaze as she reached it and she knew even the small items she owned would be gone forever- but she couldn’t care now, she had to survive.

\--

She had found herself deep in the woods behind Elentone.

Could she stop now? Was anyone following her? She had been running so hard for so long she could only hear the beating of her heart and the crunch of the leaves beneath her boots. She felt sick to her stomach, whether that was from the loss of blood or the adrenaline starting to soften in her, she didn’t know.

But as she passed by a broad evergreen she gripped at the trunk to steady herself, her body doubling over in exhaustion as she finally stopped moving.

Her chest was heaving in what felt like double time as she tried to catch her breath. 

The sounds of the forest were deafening - the twittering of the birds, the rustle of the wind, the faint sounds of hooves? She stood completely still. Yes- there it was- horses trotting. Lucia panicked- could that be the Danes coming after her? Would they be moving so casually? No, she imagined they’d be galloping at full speed to find her. 

But she couldn’t take the risk.

She sucked in a breath and started to move again, though in what direction she was going, she still had no idea. She had never been beyond the borders of Elentone, not since she had been a little girl and even then she had been forced into a cage. 

The trotting of the horses soon brought along the sound of voices. 

She was reaching a clearing, a path that she seemed to have been running parallel to without realizing.

And she could see them now- her vision felt hazy and they were still far off but she could count four, maybe five men coming in her exact direction. She pressed her body up against a tree, blinking her eyes furiously, rubbing at the dry patches of blood that congealed under her nose. 

_Please, please-_

“Aye, Father, I am sure I’ve no idea what it might be you’re referring to-” an Irish voice broke through the trees. 

“I think her husband might have another thought on the matter-” another voice responded. 

“Come now, Beocca, it is not Finan’s duty to keep the marriage sacred-” came a third.

_That didn’t sound like Danes-_

Lucia pushed herself off the tree trunk, her feet feeling heavy beneath her as she stumbled into the clearing. She brushed her hair out of her face as she tried to stand tall, her one arm raising in the air in an effort to grab their attention. But her whole body ached, and she wondered if the trouble she was having breathing wasn’t from a cracked rib or two.

“Please-”

Her voice was hoarse, rough from the smoke she knew, but she tried again. 

“I just need-”

But before she could continue on, her heart started to beat so rapidly, she would not have been surprised to see it burst from her chest. She felt her eyes start to roll back and her body crumbled to the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little Latin lesson for those who might not know, "Pessime et nequissime!" is basically the modern equivalent of "you're a no-good jerk" and while Lucia might speak perfectly fine English, she still tends to react and think in her native tongue.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. the ways of the old winds blowing you back

Lucia woke with a gasp of breath, her body lurching forward as she came to. 

“Whoa now,” came a soft voice. “You’re safe-”

It was the last voice to speak in the woods before she tried to wave them down, and as she opened her eyes, she learned she was in his arms, his body kneeling on the forest floor as he seemingly cradled her against his chest.

“The Danes- they’re-”

But a deep cough prevented the rest of her words, her body wracking in pain as she covered her face with her hands. They were covered in blood she realized and she wondered if it were her own or the Dane’s - maybe both. 

She took a deep breath, ignoring the tightness in her chest, trying to steady herself before she looked back to the man that was holding her. 

He was not like any Saxon she knew and for a brief second she feared she was in the arms of a Dane- his hair was shaved on either side, and his armor was unique, nothing like she had seen from the warriors of Wessex who lived in Elentone- but there was a softness in his glance that calmed her.

“Beocca, water-” he broke his gaze briefly to help Lucia move to a sitting position. He shifted back, crouching on his heels, his hands careful on Lucia’s shoulders as she straightened her back. She couldn’t quite hold her posture but he was there to prop her up, his hands moving to her back, just the contact of him spreading a warmth to her skin.

She tore her gaze from him to finally see who he was speaking to. 

There were four men standing above her, and it was as odd a sight as any- two men in plain robes with wooden crosses hanging from necks and the other two in similar armor to the man beside her. Again, an eerily similar sight to the Danes who had ransacked her village. 

But there was something different about them- they wouldn’t come too close to her, no, only the one called Beocca had made any sudden movements and it was to brandish a pouch from his robes. He was an older man, bald, with an expressive face and wrinkles crinkling at the corners of his eyes.

“Uhtred, we must get her a Healer-” Beocca replied.

“We are still at least one day from Coccham-” the younger man in robes said. He fiddled with the cross around his neck, not daring to make eye contact. “We can help her, maybe-”

Beocca crouched down beside Lucia. He hesitated to hand her the pouch, instead reaching to his sleeve and tearing a bit of the linen from it. He let some of the water soak the fabric. Lucia watched curiously before catching on- she reached to touch her face and could feel the blood dried on her skin. She could not meet his eyes as he handed her the rag.

“I’m sorry I must look a fright-” she said, before taking the wet cloth to her face. She winced as she reached her nose, surely broken from her fall, and did her best to clean some of the soot and blood from her skin. 

“A fright, perhaps, but one who is alive,” Uhtred replied, reaching for the rag to help Lucia get a bit of blood from the side of her neck. “We have all been bloodied here, I can promise you that.”

Lucia spent too much time in the presence of unkind men. The kindness that emanated from these two beside her left her overwhelmed. She usually felt only fear when around men, Dane or Saxon alike.

“You are being very kind,” she said to both of them. “I promise I am not usually in need of so much assistance-”

Beocca offered her a warm smile, holding out the water pouch to her. Even with the aid of the wet rag, Lucia’s hands were still bloodstained and she hesitated before reaching for it, not wanting to dirty the leather. He seemed to understand her concern and pushed the pouch closer to her. 

“Go on, girl,” Beocca said. “Drink- you’ll need it-”

She nodded her head, reaching for the pouch and taking a long drink. She hadn’t had anything to eat or drink all day she realized and it left her feeling dizzy. 

“There’s smoke coming over the treetops, Lord,” the smaller of the men in armor said. He tilted his head back, hand reaching to shield his eyes from the midday sun. “I did not expect an attack on Wessex so soon after the battle-”

“Yes, that would not bode well for the treaty Edward put forth,” Uhtred said.

“Aye, but could be an unruly lot havin’ a bit of a tantrum,” the Irishman replied.

Uhtred turned his attention back to Lucia. “Which village is it?”

“Elentone, but I do not know if there is much left of it-” Her hands wrung against the leather pouch as she thought back to the flames caving in the roof around her. “They seemed to have no other purpose than to- well, kill everyone in sight-”

“Wonderful,” Beocca replied though his voice sounded anything but pleased. He moved back to a standing position, his stride taking him back toward his horse. “We must continue on and see if there is anyone else who needs help-”

“Can you stand?” Uhtred asked her. 

Lucia would much prefer to lay here in the dirt forever than to return to Elentone but if there were survivors- well, she knew she could never live with herself if she did not return to see if she could help. 

She groaned as she curled her legs, her hands pushing into the dirt to help her gain balance and as she faltered, Uhtred was there to guide her to her feet. She braced herself against his arms, their firmness keeping her from toppling over. 

“It feels as though I’ve been trampled by a horse-” she let out a breathless laugh.

“Better to survive it, at least-” Uhtred replied, a hint of a smile on his face as he helped her back toward the rest of the group. “Come, you will ride with me.”

“Forgive me, but is this what you lot do-” Lucia asked nervously. “There were so many of them and there is only- well, there are not many of you-”

The Irishman barked out a laugh.

“It seems our reputations do not precede us,” he said, his hand pressing against his chest. “My lady, we're the most fearsome of warriors this land has ever seen-”

She leaned only slightly against Uhtred’s grasp as she looked among the group.  
  
“Even-” she turned to Beocca and the younger one, a boy with shaggy blond hair and a pointed face. “I am sorry- I have never met men of the cloth who have done battle before-”

“Baby monk here will surprise ya with the way he uses his staff-” the Irishman continued and as he spoke, the other Dane looking man began to stifle a laugh. “Well, the skill of _one_ kind of staff, my apologies-”

The boy turned a beet red, ducking his body away from the Irishman as he stepped toward Lucia. 

“I am Osferth, my lady,” he said, bowing his head slightly. 

“Lucia,” she replied, her head turning slightly to catch his gaze. “And unfortunately, no Lady, so there is no need for any sort of formality-”

“Lucia,” Uhtred repeated. “I am Uhtred, and these are good men- most of the time,” he paused and the knowing glance he shared could only bring a smile to Lucia’s lips. “There is Father Beocca, a mighty warrior indeed even if he is a man of God- the loud one here is Finan, he is not to be trusted around a married woman- and this is Sihtric, small but strong-”

“Small-” Sihtric repeated, his brow narrowing in Uhtred’s direction. “I will not recognize that.”

“Men, let us see if there is anything to salvage from Elentone,” Uhtred said. “We might have a bit of fun before returning home to Coccham.” 

\--

The ride back to Elentone was not nearly as long as Lucia had hoped. 

Although her nose hurt something fierce and her ribs were aching, she had begun to feel comfortable riding with Uhtred, his presence behind her on the steed a welcome calm. It was a wonder to her- she had known this man for precious little time and yet he had shown her an unbelievable amount of grace. 

But perhaps this is what men could be like outside of the walls of Lord Tredan’s home.

It was not an hour later they came to the edge of the wood and the closer they came to the village, the more palpable the smoke was in the air, lingering heavy and hot. 

She gasped as they reached the main path.

There was not a recognizable building left in sight.

“They destroyed it all,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. 

“Osferth can stay with you here if you do not wish to venture inside,” Uhtred said.

She considered this, wondering if she would be able to bring herself back to the home that kept her captive for so many years. She still couldn’t place the feeling in the pit of her stomach- she was no longer a slave, no longer indentured to a man and woman who treated her so cruelly, but for that she paid a heavy price- a village of people gone. 

Or worse- taken captive by the Danes so they could be, what did the Dane call it? Gifts. 

She shook her head. 

“No- I will be fine,” she said. 

Uhtred dismounted from the horse, and while the rest of the men were tieing their horses to the small fence that typically led visitors into the town center, Uhtred waited beside Lucia, his hand reaching out to help her down.

In any other condition she knew she would be fine to dismount herself as she had loved riding when she was a child, but she was extremely grateful for his assistance now.

“Steady now,” he warned, his hands ginger as he lifted her down. 

“What happens if there are Danes still here?” 

She stood close to Uhtred, her head tilting back to catch his glance. He was a shadow in the sunlight and she cast her hand over her eyes to better see him. His head tilted down to meet her glance and she was certain there was a small flash of a smile before he turned to join his men.

“We will take care of them,” he said, before sparing her a glance. “They will not harm you.”

Osferth walked beside her as they ventured into Elentone. He was much quieter than the rest she noticed, but he held his staff firmly in his hands and he had thrown a vest of leather over his robes in case of any impending trouble. 

“Have you lived here your whole life?” he asked her. 

“No-” she shook her head. “No, I was brought here when I was young-”

 _As a slave_ **_,_ **she thought, but that hardly seemed a fair introduction to the monk.

Bodies littered the streets, bodies Lucia recognized- the butcher was laying near the church, the blacksmith hanging across his forge- children she knew that played in the streets in the warmer months. She could not look at them too long, the guilt that she was not among them almost too hard for her to bear. 

The men took turns exploring the buildings to look for any survivors but each one of them came up empty handed. 

In the span of a single morning, Elentone had become a town of ghosts.

“Marks of a cart, Lord,” Sihtric pointed to the dirt. “This was a slave raid-”

“Would they have gotten far?” Lucia asked.

“A half a day, maybe, ahead of us,” Finan replied. “Ya didn’t happen to notice how many men there might’ve been, didya?”

She shook her head.

“Just the one who-” But her stomach lurched as the vision of that wolfish grin entered her head. “Maybe a few others as I was running-”

“These marks lead west,” Sihtric called out. He was a few yards away now, his eyes following out of the village. “I would wager we’d have run into them at some point-”

The men all seemed to share a glance that spoke an entire conversation without words. She watched as Beocca and Uhtred nodded their heads, the priest making his way toward her as the rest fell into hushed conversation.

“Lucia,” Beocca beckoned. “Do you think there is anything of yours that is salvageable?”

“I can look,” she said. “The barn was in flames when I finally fled but perhaps some of my things made it.”

“Did you say the barn?”

“Oh- well, yes, that was where I slept, Father,” she admitted. “I am no Lady because I was a servant to a Lord and Lady here but now they are both- I mean, a Dane attacked and- well now I am a servant to no one-”

_I am a servant to no one._

Beocca clasped his hand on Lucia’s shoulder, drawing himself closer.

“It’s alright,” he said. “You see what you can find and we will finally rid you of this place.”

\--

It felt unbelievable to think that only a few hours prior Lucia was standing in this precise place with feed to spread and laundry to fold. The chickens and the pigs were gone now, whether taken by the Danes or finding their way through the woods, she did not know. But some laundry still hung on the clothes line and as she gingerly stepped through the rubble, the barn was not in as terrible shape as she originally thought. 

Dust and smoke lingered in the air and she brought her arm to her face to block the fumes as she pushed past the broken doors and inside. 

The little loft in which Lucia slept was caved in, the wooden beams burnt black, the thatching from the roof still falling as if light snowflakes were drifting in from the sky. Still, she climbed what was left of the ladder to see if there was anything left for her- not that she had very much to begin with. Three dresses, two for winter and the one she was wearing now for spring and summer. 

The small trunk Tredan had given her for her belongings was still there, caught under a beam and just beyond her grasp. She reached forward and pushed herself up on her toes. She could barely catch the corner of the trunk with the tips of her fingers but she knew climbing any further might cause a collapse under her weight. She struggled briefly, the ache in her ribs causing her to cry out in pain, but eventually it moved and with another stretch she brought it closer toward her, the beam falling to the side.

It wasn’t exactly unharmed but it was still latched shut and it gave her hope she might have at least one change of clothing- she could not wear this bloodstained dress for the rest of her days.

The lock was still warm when she touched it and she saw the leather had curled in a few places as she inspected the trunk up close. But as she flipped it open, she felt a small success.

Her two dresses were still inside and in just fine condition- a little worn for the wear but would do her well enough to take. She grabbed them and held them tightly under her arm as she made her way back down the ladder.

It was a miracle she managed what she did because as her feet touched the ground, the rest of the loft fell. She jumped back, her eyes fixed as the barn began to crumble.

If there was ever a more permanent push out of Elentone, this was it. 

Before making her way back to the center of town she saw a beautiful dress still hanging on the clothesline - a finely embroidered piece that Wilda had specially designed by a tailor in a neighboring town. She hesitated for only a moment before taking it with her as well- it might fetch a fair price, enough to give Lucia a head start somewhere new. 

She found the men with a horse just outside. She was a cream colored mare, her hooves pawing at the dirt road.

“She was wandering near the church,” Uhtred said and there was that smile again. “Can you ride on your own?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


	3. rise above the mountains and the stars and the sea

It seems the men had formed a plan. 

Sihtric would ride ahead, keeping sure to stay just enough behind to scout their location. As night fell and the Danes were sure to drink themselves to sleep, Uhtred and the rest would free the slaves and take out the Danes before they reached morning. 

Osferth would likely stay behind with Lucia to ensure her safety.

They explained it to Lucia in such a simple way that she felt silly to have questioned them earlier. It seemed this _is_ what they did. 

Lucky her to have stumbled across them. 

They were now just outside of Elentone, making a small camp on the bank of a brook. She had been intent on washing her face properly when they arrived, possibly even rinse some of the blood from her dress, but she was still in the company of men and there was a distinct lack of privacy within this clearing. 

Still, she was happy to rinse the blood away from her skin and brush the smoke and dirt out of her hair. 

She took good measure of her face once the waters stilled and realized more scars would be finding their way to the surface of her skin after this morning, more than the small white mark above her left eyebrow, or the faded burn mark on her clavicle from a rather nasty attack by Lady Wilda. But they were the marks of her survival and she would much rather them than the alternative.

She settled in the circle around the fire, Osferth on her left and Finan on her right. Uhtred sat just across with Beocca between him and Finan. They were still waiting for Sihtric to return.

Osferth had warmed up some stew over the fire and just the smell reminded her of how famished she was. She was soaking up a bit of hard bread with the broth that was left and listening to them discuss strategy for any surprises when she realized this was the first meal she’d eaten that she did not cook herself in thirteen years. 

“Is there something I can do to help?” she asked then, feeling intensely grateful to these men around her. “I want to help.”

Uhtred met her eyes but he did not respond immediately. The others shifted in their positions, not directly answering her but she could tell that maybe there wasn’t going to be an easy answer.

“Eh, I dunno,” Finan said. “You’re still in a bit of bad shape- I can see ya wince whenever ya breath-”

“A broken rib,” she waved her hand at the notion. “I’ve suffered through worse before-”

“You’ve suffered through worse than a broken rib?” Osferth questioned. 

“Well, I-” 

But Lucia didn’t quite know how to respond. They must pity her enough, she thought, finding her near dead on the side of the road, gingerly taking care of her like she was a little broken lamb. Did she need to divulge her past and make it worse?

Can you start a life of freedom with a lie?

“This-” she pointed to her nose before gesturing to her ribcage, “and this were from a Dane but these-” she gestured to the three bruising scratches at the left side of her jaw, “were from the Lord of the house.”

There was no verbal response from the men but she knew they were listening. Lucia straightened her posture, no matter how much it ached, and put the empty bowl down beside her.

“I was in a cage once, stolen from my family when I was a child and sent _here_ of all places to serve-” she felt a lump rise in her throat but would not allow any tears to spring to her eyes. “-I will not sit here while the same thing happens to anyone else. Please, I am useful, I can be useful.” 

“But can ya fight?” Finan questioned, his one eyebrow raising as he looked at her. “A small woman such as yerself against a Dane- it’s a risk-”

“How do you think I got away in the first place?” she challenged. 

“Fair enough-” Finan said, a glint of something in his eyes when he looked at her. 

“Fine, I will not stand in the way of a woman who wants to prove herself,” Uhtred spoke then. “You, Osferth and Beocca can free your villagers while Finan and I make work of the Danes in their tents- Sihtric will join us-”

“I will need a weapon,” she said, jutting her chin up. “I had only a floorboard back in the village.”

“A floorboard?” Beocca laughed. “We will find you something much better I can assure you, perhaps Finan will share one of his many weapons with you.”

“‘pose I could,” Finan shifted in his spot, reaching into the belt on his hip. 

He pulled out what looked to be a cross between a knife and a sword, the tip cut in a sharp diagonal. But the base was quite pretty, an intricate engraving in the dark wood. Lucia tilted her head as he twirled the handle in his hands. Finan was an interesting sort- quite the comedian she learned throughout their short time together. But she appreciated his quick smile, even among all the horrors they saw today.

“This little fella might work,” he continued. “Ya ever held a saex before?”

“A what?”

The men around her laughed and she looked to them bewildered. She hadn’t ever heard of a saex before let alone hold one in her hands. She felt a flush of heat hit her cheeks.

“I was trained in sword when I was younger,” she offered. “My father taught me- but I was only a child and haven’t used one since- is this similar?”

She could sense Uhtred’s eyes on her and she spared him a glance. Was that curiosity on his face? 

“Eh, it’s a bit different-” Finan held it square in his fist, his arm out in front of him. “Grip it firm- Ya don’t wanna swing it, ya wanna jab it at ‘em- especially if they get too close-”

“Let us hope they do not get too close,” she replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. 

Finan met her smile with one of his own, his hand holding out the weapon for her to take into her grasp. She mimicked his actions, not minding the weight of it in her hands. 

“You’re not from here, are you?” Beocca asked. 

“I am not,” she replied, though she found it hard to meet his eyes.

“Your accent, it reminds me of a man I met many years ago, another priest from Rome.”

“Well, I was born in Lombardei, in the village of Pavia,” she said, still focused on the saex in her hands. “Not very close to Rome but, of course, much closer than here-”

She had never shared her history with anyone before- she’d never had an audience even vaguely interested in it. But here, now, she could sense they wanted to know and that was enough for her to continue. 

“My father served the King in his army, one of the only commanders that wasn’t Frank,” she explained with a pride in her voice she had not felt in a long time. “He was a warrior, much like you all- just like _his_ father was, and my great-grandfather before that-”

She let her gaze settle on the flames in front of her, the sky starting to darken. She knew it was only a matter of time before they made their descent back into the woods to challenge the Danes. 

“He was well liked but there was an attack made- a dissent, things I could not understand being so young,” she said. “My parents were both killed and I was taken away- it has been so long since I have been gone that I almost forget what home was like.”

“There are some here who know what that is like,” Uhtred said, turning his head to look to Finan briefly. The two men shared a long look and Lucia could not be more intrigued as to why. But he made no effort to explain further and neither did Finan.

“Do you speak Latin, then?” Osferth asked, leaning forward in his seat on the ground. “I am still learning scripture in the language myself-”

Although she had a bit of trouble meeting any of their glances before, Lucia had no problem in looking to Osferth with a wide smile, “ _Ita, frater, mihi lingua fuit ex nativitate_ ”

“Very good,” Beocca said, clasping a strong hand on Osferth’s shoulders. “She can take over your studies, Osferth.”

The group laughed and Lucia couldn’t help but join.

“I would,” she told him, reaching toward him to rest a hand on his for a brief moment. “I have not been able to even read my own language in a very long time.”

A low whistle rang throughout the trees, a soft three note melody. Lucia turned her head toward the wood. Uhtred stood but did not reach for his sword as he walked toward the trees. 

It was Sihtric. 

“I have counted twenty,” he said, the two men returning to the group. “It should not be hard.”

Lucia blinked. _Twenty_ men seemed simple to them? 

“Then we go,” Uhtred replied. “Lucia, are you ready?”

\--

She was not ready.

But Lucia knew she could not say so after making such a show about helping. And even if this night resulted in her death, which seemed quite possible considering her actual skillset and the still broken bones within her body, she would not back down. She owed it to the little girl she had been once, praying and hoping for someone to free her from the cage.

No one had done it for her then.

But she would try her hardest to do it for the villagers looming before them. 

“I pray ya won’t need it but don’t forget what I said-”

She turned to find Finan behind her, his hand on the hilt of his sword, his eyes darting briefly ahead of her as they reached the base of the Danes’ camp. There was a nod from Uhtred who stood at the head of the group before Finan turned his attention back to Lucia.

“Jab it,” she replied, repeating his words from earlier. “I will remember. Thank you.”

He waved his free hand, “‘Tis the least- Soulsliver will do right by ya, I assure ya-”

“Soulsliver?” 

She did not remember her father naming any of his weapons but maybe that was information warriors did not share with their daughters. But before Finan could reply, they were moving ahead and Lucia followed after Beocca and Osferth as they split into their groups. 

Still, she would not let the saex go, her hand gripping so tightly her knuckles were whitening. 

Their steps were soft on the ground beneath their feet, careful to avoid any twigs or leaves that might crunch too hard as they approached. Lucia counted five tents with maybe a handful of Danes standing at alert on the edges. But when she realized the scope of the layout, she faltered.

The cage was in the center of their camp.

Lucia could not understand how Sihtric could return looking so casual. This seemed like an impossible task. How could they free anyone with the cage out in the open like that?

But everyone else was still falling into place so she decided to keep moving only to be prevented by Osferth. He held a tentative hand out, twisting his body to hold a finger to his mouth before directing her attention to the clearing.

One by one each of the Dane guards fell- Uhtred, Finan, Beocca, and Sihtric drawing their blades across the throats of each one of them. Lucia gasped, immediately moving to cover her mouth in case anyone heard. Osferth did not look too pleased, his face cringing before he shook his head and drew up a breath, his chest rising. 

“It is much easier to attack when they are actually trying to kill you,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “At least for me-”

“Uh, yes,” Lucia replied, cocking her head to the side as she watched them drag the bodies back beyond the tent. “I as well-”

Beocca beckoned them forward and they hurried ahead, Lucia taking note of just who was in the cage at the center- mostly women and children, though she spied the Father Aldwin and two of his younger apprentices in the corner. He looked as if he were about to speak when he caught sight of her but Lucia shook her head vigorously, holding her finger to her lips much like Osferth did to her earlier.

“We will free them once the Danes are no longer a threat,” he said to both of them. 

And nearly at the moment he spoke, Lucia noticed the torches Uhtred and Finan were lighting from the bonfire in the center of the camp. One by one they were thrown into the tents, the camp soon ablaze much like Elentone was just this morning.

“These men love their fire,” Osferth said.

“It is a favorite,” Beocca commented. 

The roars from within the tents were swift and enough to send a chill down Lucia’s spine. The Danes were running from their tents, some dressed, some bare chested - all of them visibly angry, waving their swords and axes and other various weaponry in the air toward Uhtred and the rest of them. 

“Dane slayer-” one of them roared and although smoke was starting to fill the camp, Lucia noticed he seemed to be missing part of his face.

She gulped as she gripped her weapon.

“That is the one-” she breathed, and Beocca looked to her with concern. “The one that I-”

“He does look rather bad,” Sihtric commented, seemingly impressed, as he hit his sword against a Dane with fiery red braids hanging down his back.

“A right mess,” Finan stated as he passed by, already in combat with two men at once. 

It was a mess, indeed, every which way Lucia looked, each of the men were fighting Danes at every turn. She was impressed and horrified all at the same time. And even still, she felt rather useless amidst it all. She wasn’t sure any of the Danes even noticed her.

“You girl-”

She was wrong.

He wasn’t very tall but what he lacked in height, he made up in girth, and he was charging directly at her. With his axe in hand, hair black as night whipping about his face, he looked like a demon charging through the flames. 

He was surprisingly quick.

Lucia ducked, lucky to dodge his first swing- the axe was never her father’s favorite weapon. He told her it left the fighter with the greatest amount of vulnerability if he missed. So, she used that to her advantage. He might have been quick, but she was lighter and leaner and smaller- she was going to use everything she had in her to trip him up.

“Stop moving-” he grumbled, another swing and another miss, his breath starting to get the better of him. “You _bitch_ \- let me kill you-”

“I do not think that’s how this works-” 

She turned to the right just as his axe came down beside her, narrowly missing the sleeve of her dress. As he barreled forward, she could hear Finan’s voice in her head and she struck his side with the saex, slicing through his tunic and piercing his flesh.

He let out a noise that felt like a mixture of a groan and a growl, his free hand clutching at the new wound. He whipped around, his face a flash of anger and pain, and he started to charge toward her again.

 _This is it, this is how I die_ -

But out of the corner of her eye she saw the large bonfire off to the side and had a thought.

She sidestepped a dead Dane, feet moving quickly toward the fire, the heat of the flames licking at Lucia’s back as she stood there, saex held firm in her hand as if she were putting on a show of taking this Dane head on. 

She had to time it perfectly; she had to make sure there was no hesitation from the Dane.

“If you _are_ trying to kill me, you’re not doing a very good job,” she taunted, eyes flashing. 

“I do not mind working for my kills,” he growled.

And as he swung, she ducked toward the left, keeping her body low to the ground in order to let her saex slice across his shins. He roared in pain, his body beginning to lose balance and in that moment Lucia rose up and with all her might, shoved him forward into the bonfire. 

“My _God_ , woman-” 

It was almost impossible to hear over the screams of the man now struggling to get his body out of the firepit. But as the Dane went down, Lucia looked up to find Finan staring at her in disbelief from across the bonfire. The glow of the flames affected a shadow across his face that only exaggerated the rise of his brows. But it only lasted a moment before something akin to pride flashed through his eyes and he was off again, this time swinging his sword around to slice another Dane in the gut.

With that, there was only one Dane left.

In all the time it took Lucia to fight off the one, the rest had been taken out.

_Of course._

Lucia took a moment to collect herself, hand pressing up against her stomach, eyes scanning what was left of the campsite. It was a massacre. Tents were torn and trashed and bodies littered the ground. 

The only Dane left was on his knees, standing before Uhtred.

“Do you think Valhalla awaits you, Dane Slayer?” he spat. “Taking out your own?”

Lucia moved forward, walking in step with Beocca and Sihtric as the group reached where Uhtred stood before the Dane. _Dane Slayer?_ There was so much she did not know about this group of men. But as she came into view of the Dane, her eyes widened. It was as if he was haunting her- to be the last one left and the first one she saw this morning.

“ _You_ -” 

He seemed to want to get to his feet but Uhtred’s sword was suddenly pointed at his chest.

“I should have killed you when I had the chance,” the Dane taunted. “You are too skinny to hump, anyway-”

“ _Vappa! Cucurbita!”_

Lucia felt a flush of heat creeping into her skin. She had heard nastier things from Lord Tredan but she had never been able to express herself freely before. She could hear Beocca chuckle behind her, Osferth whispering, “These are not words I will be taught, I suppose,” and Finan offering, “Dunno, baby monk, these sound pretty useful-” 

“ _Nihil nequius est te,”_ she spat, and without realizing it, she was stomping toward the Dane.

But there was Uhtred, again, this time his arm gently holding her back. He turned his face toward her, accompanied by the smallest shake of his head before turning back to the Dane.

“You will apologize to the woman,” he said, voice even and calm. “You will apologize and then you will go back to your people and tell them that this land is not yours to pillage any longer.”

“I will not,” he replied shortly.

“Are ya saying ya rather die then?” Finan asked. 

“We’d be happy to grant that wish,” Beocca said.

Uhtred pushed his sword ever so slightly into the Dane’s chest and it was clear that the threat lingering between them here was enough to persuade the Dane that this was his only true choice if he wanted to survive.

“You will regret this Uhtred Ragnarson,” the Dane replied. “You will only get one chance to make a fool of Oluf- know that I will find you and I will kill you and your pretty little _whore_ -”

“I am no one’s whore,” Lucia told him, staring at him in defiance.

“Ya are pretty, though,” Finan interjected. “We uh, can’t say the same for ol’ Oluf here.”

“She ruined my face-” Oluf whined. 

“It must look better than what was there before,” Uhtred offered, his sword rising just slightly to turn Oluf’s chin so they could all get a better look at the nasty wound. Oluf leaned his head back to avoid the touch. “Now what did I say-”

Oluf titled his head back, nose flaring as he finally made eye contact with Lucia. His lip curled slightly, and she could sense that this was merely a joke to him. It made her even angrier. 

“I am dreadfully sorry to offend,” Oluf drawled, before he rolled his eyes. “Are you satisfied?”

“I would be more satisfied if you joined your friend in the fire,” she replied.

“It is enough,” Uhtred interjected, though the glimmer in his eyes betrayed the calm demeanor he was portraying. “Now go-”

“On what, foot?” Oluf replied in exasperation. “It will take me a month to travel-”

“Then you best begin now,” Sihtric said.

They left Oluf with just a small dagger, enough to let him into Valhalla if something were to happen to him on his journey, and as Sihtric explained, this was a mercy most would not grant Danes. But Uhtred being who he was- a tale Lucia was more and more curious to learn- it was one of the things Sihtric respected most about his leader. 

It was not until Oluf was on his way into the wood did they release the villagers from the cage. They were dazed and overwhelmed and it took a moment for Lucia and Beocca to round them together. There weren’t many of them- two dozen maybe, so small a number that seeing them standing together brought a pain to Lucia’s chest. Their village had been so much larger in population.

Father Aldwin was quick to offer thanks to Uhtred and the rest, grasping his hand and blessing mercy upon him. Uhtred nodded his head and offered them travel to Coccham if they did not want to return to Elentone. But the Father was quick to offer hope they could rebuild- and if they could take the horses left behind by the Danes and go home.

“Do you wish to go with them, Lucia?” Uhtred asked.

The curious group of warrior men that had saved her in the wood were standing around her now, waiting until the villagers made their way back to Eletone before returning to camp. 

The question hung in the air as Lucia thought about it. What could she do? The other villagers knew her as one thing: a slave. How could she ever go back to that life? 

“There is nothing left there for me,” she told him. “I know you did not ask for another travel companion but- well, I would very much like to come to Coccham if you would have me.”

Uhtred smiled and the rest of the men did not look disappointed by her answer.

“Good,” he replied. “Now let us go and get some rest, we have a journey ahead of us in the morning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed! I'm about to start season four now and I can't wait to see my favorite merry band of boys.
> 
> A few more Latin lessons:
> 
> "Ita, frater, mihi lingua fuit ex nativitate" means "Yes, Brother, it has been my tongue since birth"  
> "Vappa! Cucurbita!" means "Scum! Fat head!"  
> "Nihil nequius est te" means "There is nothing worse than you"


	4. i’d sing a song for you

Lucia could not sleep.

Her body tingled, her skin buzzing with adrenaline even as she willed herself to fall asleep. She blinked her eyes shut tightly, trying to calm her breathing, trying to find relief in the fact that she was no longer sleeping on a stiff bale of hay in a barn but in a collection of furs and blankets donated by each of the men asleep beside her.

But it was a vision of Wilda grasping at her throat, the Dane falling into the bonfire, Father Aldwin blessing her hands before fleeing back to Elentone, a roguish grin from Finan, and the tender way Uhtred had lifted her from his horse.

Her mind would not stop.

And so she sat up, taking in the small tent she shared with Uhtred and Finan, for a moment lingering on Finan as he slept, his body square in front of the entrance of the tent- the only way to enter or exit over his sleeping form, a threat he teased Lucia about before he passed into sleep. 

“Will sleep not come?”

Lucia, surprised, pressed a hand to her chest, sheepish laughter bubbling her throat.

“I thought I was the only one awake,” she replied, her voice barely a whisper. 

Uhtred lay on his side, propping himself up on his elbow. He was not more than a foot or two from where Lucia sat and his eyes did not leave her form.

“You may whisper but I will tell you, Finan can sleep through a storm-”

This time, she did laugh.

“You handled yourself well tonight,” he continued. 

She considered him carefully, though it was difficult to see him fully without the moonlight to help her. He wore only his tunic to sleep, and she noticed Thor’s hammer hanging around his neck. Although she was as curious as ever, Lucia did her best not to immediately bring forth all her questions. 

“One kill compared to your many,” she countered. “You were all so quick-”

“Do you wish to become a better warrior?” he asked.

Lucia tilted her head back, propping herself up on the palms of her hands, her eyes inspecting the fabric of the tent above her as she considered her answer. She had been thrilled to learn sword combat from her father when she was a child- he was so strong and fierce and powerful. To know an entire army relied on him, even a young Lucia could sense how special that was. 

A wry smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she returned her gaze to Uhtred.

“I would not mind learning more,” she said. “But I do not think you are looking for a woman warrior to join you in all your battles.”

“I have fought alongside many women in battle,” Uhtred told her. “You will meet one when we return to Coccham- Hild- she is the only one who frightens my men-”

As he spoke, Uhtred shifted to lay on his back, his hands clasped against his chest. He turned his head just slightly to meet her stare. Lucia smiled brightly. 

“I will be happy to meet this Hild,” Lucia said. “Why does she not travel with you now?”

“Well, she is busy running the nunnery-”

“You are toying with me,” she laughed, her hand reaching to poke at his side. “A warrior running a nunnery?”

“Hild was a nun first, then warrior, now she is nun again,” he replied simply. “A wonder of a woman.”

“You admire her,” Lucia noted. 

“She saved my life more than once.”

A small yawn passed through Lucia’s lips, catching her off guard. Maybe her body was finally ready to fall asleep. She lay back down, this time resting on her uninjured side to face Uhtred, both hands clasped underneath the soft fur blanket she was using as a pillow.

“Are you a Dane, Uhtred Ragnarson?” she asked finally. “A Dane who kills other Danes?”

“I am both Saxon and Dane,” he said, his eyes closing. “It is a long story, Lucia. But one that I might tell you another time- for now try and sleep- we have a long ride ahead of us tomorrow.”

\--

Although the bed they created for her had been comfortable considering the circumstances, it took Lucia far too long to lift herself from the floor of the tent when she finally woke. Every single part of her hurt. Her bones ached, her muscles were tight, even the skin of her eyelids had a decidedly tender feel when she rubbed at them to rid herself of the night. 

She shifted under the blanket, turning her body onto her stomach, a groan emitting from her lips as she pushed herself up to a sitting position.

It hurt to stretch.

It hurt to move.

She lingered there for a moment wondering if they would notice if she just stayed in this tent forever instead of joining them on their journey back to Coccham. She could not imagine lifting herself to her feet.

“It feels like death, donnit?”

She grimaced as she turned her head to find Finan lingering in the opening of the tent. 

“You must leave me,” she sighed dramatically. “My body has betrayed me and will not move.”

“Aye, it be like that after ya first battle,” he said before making his way over to her. 

He held out a hand for her to grasp. She was glad for his help as she rose to her feet. Her body was shaking slightly, and for a moment she feared her legs would give out on her but Finan was right there, his free hand resting on her hip to steady her.

“You seem rested,” she said, looking up at the Irishman. “Did you sleep well?”

“A bit like a well fed baby,” he grinned before his expression softened. “Did ya not?”

“I could not settle,” she told him truthfully. “My mind was moving too quickly-”

“Ya know, the things ya saw yesterday,” he said, finally stepping back from her, one hand raking through his unruly black hair before letting it drop to his side. “-it’d keep anyone awake. The thing now is to keep moving, give yerself a few good days to drown out the bad ones-”

“Is this what you do?” Lucia asked him.

“Nothing a good visit to the pub can’t fix-” he said, his brows raising. “And Coccham has a great pub we will be takin’ advantage of when we return.”

“All I want is a bath,” she said, glancing down at the rumpled, bloodstained dress she still wore.

At that they both began to laugh, even if it pained Lucia to do so.

\--

The journey to Coccham would take much of the day, Lucia learned, with one stop toward the late afternoon to give the horses a rest and have something to eat. She was riding beside Osferth toward the back of the group, trying to ignore the pain in her side with every little bump along the path. She did not want to complain and slow everyone down, not after she had taken a day already out of their journey.

Although a bath was a high priority upon her arrival to Coccham, she was very eager to meet with the Healer, her fingers absently prodding at her nose, wincing only slightly as she did so. She had taken after her mother in much of her looks, the same thick and wavy brown hair, the same round, wide-set eyes- but her nose was her father’s. It was a Roman nose, he had called it, but the kind suited to a young woman. 

She could feel the break at the bridge, the bone crunching slightly.

Osferth rode silently beside her, though she noticed the occasional quiver of a smile when Finan would say something particularly funny or when Sihtric let out a curse. 

“What was it you said to the Dane last night?” he asked suddenly, sparing her a glance. 

She could hear Beocca chuckling from where he rode beside Uhtred.

“Nothing he has not heard before I’m sure,” Lucia replied, smiling brightly.

“I could translate everything you said except for one word,” he said sheepishly. “Because I do not think what you called him was a pumpkin-”

“Oh, I did-”

“A pumpkin?” Osferth repeated, perplexed.

“It is an old saying from where I am from for a fat headed man-” she admitted, laughing softly. “It sounds much more intimidating when you are yelling it in Latin, though-”

“Scared the hell outta me,” Finan replied, his neck twisting slightly to offer her a wink from his horse directly in front of her.

Lucia could feel a flutter of something in her chest. She smiled back at him in spite of herself, knowing full well that her first introduction of Finan included his love of women. But even if he was just a natural flirt and even if it didn’t mean anything more than that, she found that she did not mind the attention.

It was a welcome change compared to what she was used to.

“About what Father Beocca said earlier-”

“Hm?” 

She had been too lost in thought, her mind lingering on late night conversations and early morning laughter. She rubbed at her cheek before turning her attention back to the monk. 

“About continuing with my Latin studies,” he continued. “If it would not be too much trouble, I would very much appreciate your help.”

“Osferth, I would be happy to,” Lucia replied, hands gripping at the reigns of her horse as they reached a shallow brook they prepared to cross. “And I will do my best to keep the lessons on insults to a minimum-” 

“Or that could be _all_ of your lessons,” Sihtric suggested. 

“Ya can aid us in our journey on corrupting the baby monk,” Finan said.

“That isn’t what I had in mind when I made the suggestion,” Beocca said thoughtfully. 

“Lucia, are you not a woman of God?” Uhtred asked.

It was as if she could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke. She bucked her legs against the horse as cold splashes of water hit at her feet, not minding the feeling one bit in the hot midday sun. As they crossed the water, Lucia wondered how she wanted to answer that question.

He was a Saxon and a Dane. Those were his words, weren’t they? So, was there some kind of battle within him when it came to religion? Was this actually a trick question? She looked to Osferth and Beocca and wondered if two men of the cloth would follow someone like Uhtred if he held any disdain for Christians. 

“I was baptized,” Lucia replied, finally, knowing she could only be truthful regardless of the outcome. “Christianity is all I have ever known, for better or for worse, I don't quite know-”

“I can wager a guess,” Sihtric mumbled his breath.

“Do I sense I am among men who do not favor God?” she asked, though there was a tinge of amusement to her voice. After spending more than a decade with a man who considered himself pious and often was anything but - Lucia did not find as much affection for her religion as she once did. 

“Ah, but does He favor _me_ -” Finan looked to the sky briefly, his one hand clutching at his chest, before letting it drop with a chuckle. “It does not seem so-” 

“You are looking in the wrong direction, Finan,” Beocca said.

“Ya know, Father-” Finan countered, though there was a lightness to his voice. “It would not be the first time I hit a priest-”

“You try it, Irishman, and I will wipe the ground with that pretty little face of yours-”

\--

The group stopped in the middle of a field that sat atop a small hill, the field covered in bee orchids and cowslips. Lucia watched as the wildflowers swayed in the breeze of the early evening. She lingered back near her horse for a moment, watching as the men broke into their supplies for drinks of water and tears of bread. 

The creamy white mare neighed happily against Lucia’s touch.

“You must be hungry,” Uhtred said as he approached. He tore his share of bread in half and handed her some. “Here, eat.”

“How much longer until we arrive?” she asked. 

“A few hours yet but we should arrive before dark.”

“I know you did not expect to care for and feed a straggler during your journey,” she said, as she reached for the loaf. Her hand lingered against his for a moment and she offered him a soft smile as she looked up to meet his gaze. “But I am very grateful for your kindness and I hope to repay this favor-”

“There is no debt to repay,” he replied with a shake of his head. “Lucia, you are welcome in Coccham without pretense.”

“Then I will tell the Ealdorman of Coccham that he is very lucky to have a warrior such as you-”

“Lucia,” Uhtred’s voice was low as he took a step closer toward her, his free hand grasping gently at her shoulder as he looked down at her. His lips curled into a smile. She found it was hard to look away from his lips as her heart began to beat more rapidly in her chest. “I am the Ealdorman of Coccham.”

She stared up at him, her brow furrowing.

“You’re _what_ -”

Uhtred stepped back to take a bite out of his bread, stifling his laughter as he chewed.

“Do you mean to say I have been riding with you this whole time and you did not think it would be important to tell me I was with a Lord?” she asked, feeling her cheeks turn red with embarrassment. “You must think I’m a fool-”

“I think you are no such thing,” he told her, though he was still smiling broadly. 

“I am terribly embarrassed.”

“There is no need,” he insisted. “Now come and sit with us as the horses rest.”

He beckoned her to follow as he moved toward where the rest of the men sat. She stared after him for a moment before sucking in a breath. Uhtred was one surprise after another. A Dane and an Ealdorman?

She followed after him, shaking her head only slightly at her bizarre luck. 

“Ya clinging hard to that bread, Lucia,” Finan commented, looking up at the two of them as they approached. “We’ll have a meal when we arrive in Coccham, ya know-”

She pressed her lips together as she realized she might just grow permanently flush among this group. She glanced down to see the small loaf still clenched in her fist. Instead of immediately replying, she took a large bite and sank down on the grass beside the Irishman. 

“And once you have healed, your training will begin,” Uhtred said. “That is, if you still wish to learn-”

She swallowed her bite, “I do, _Lord_.”

Uhtred leaned back on his elbows, the corner of his mouth turning upward into a smirk. 

“Very well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so life in Coccham begins! Thank you all for reading! Season 4 basically ripped my heart out in a million different ways but it was so good, I might watch it all over again. 
> 
> And just a reminder this takes place directly after season 3 finishes!


	5. every single time it all shifts one way or the other

The sun had begun its descent as they approached the entrance to Coccham, casting a golden sheen over everything around them. It had been more than twelve hours since they departed from their camp outside of Elentone and she felt battle torn and sore from riding on her horse for so long. 

Two men in chainmail pulled open the gate, allowing the six of them to pass through with curt nods toward Uhtred and the rest. Their gazes lingered on her for only a minute before rushing to close the gate behind them.

So, this was her new home.

While it resembled Elentone in many ways, there was a feeling of release that hit her as they rode into the center of the village. She would be her own person here. At least that had been what Uhtred had told her - there was no pretense to her arrival in Coccham, no debt she owed him. 

“You are over a day late, Uhtred-”

As Lucia landed on two wobbly feet beside her horse, she turned her head to see Uhtred greeting a blond woman dressed in plain robes similar to Beocca and Osferth. A thick wooden cross hung from her neck. 

This must be Hild.

Before replying, Uhtred swept the nun into a bear hug that momentarily cut through the stern facade and brought a smile to the woman’s face. He held her tightly and Lucia could see the familiarity between them, the warmth in their embrace. 

“We had a problem we needed to solve,” he replied as he released his grip.

“Just a bit o’ fun with some Danes, Abbess, that’s all,” Finan replied.

“Danes attacked you?” Hild asked. “Well, the King’s treaty did not last long-”

“It was a slave raid on a small village nearby,” Beocca explained. “If we had not run into one of their villagers, I am afraid they would have taken us by surprise on our journey home.”

“Yes, Lucia, come and meet Hild,” Uhtred beckoned toward her. “She will help you with your wounds-”

“Your _wounds_?” Hild was exasperated as she looked among the men standing between them. “You poor thing, come here-”

She pushed through Uhtred and Finan to reach Lucia. She gave her a long once over, eyes lingering on the still bloodstained dress she was wearing. Her other dresses were in a small trunk with the other supplies. Beocca had stashed them there so she did not have to worry about carrying them. But she should have changed, she realized, her arms covering up some of the smattering of blood on her bodice. 

“I’m sorry I kept them,” she said, offering the nun a weak smile. “But they did save my life.”

“They have a habit of that,” Hild told her, shaking her head. “Now, what hurts?”

Lucia grimaced, “Well, everything.”

“Finan- please fetch the Healer and bring her to the nunnery,” Hild instructed, turning her body toward the Irishman. “And Osferth, have the cook prepare a separate plate for dinner to bring there as well-”

“Aye, Abbess,” Finan nodded before tugging at Osferth’s shoulder. “Let’s go Baby Monk.”

“In the nunnery?” Uhtred sighed. “You could have the Healer see her in the Main Hall-”

“Where she will have zero privacy among the rest of you, I don’t think so,” she replied. 

“I would not mind the company of women, Lord,” Lucia admitted.

“Traitor,” Uhtred said as he shook his head.

“Come Uhtred, your children might have missed you-” Beocca said, before offering Lucia a reassuring smile. “Sihtric, your wife probably did not but you should go on and fetch her for dinner.”

Soon it was just Lucia and Hild alone, the nun helping her to walk the short way toward a small house that stood beside an even smaller chapel across the village.

“They are good men,” Hild said. “But exhausting as I am sure you might now know.”

“They have been kind,” Lucia told her. “But I am eager to finally stop moving for a little while.”

The nunnery was a simple building with only a few small rooms within. They entered into what appeared to be the main room consisting of a long dining table along with a small area for preparing food. Beautiful tapestries hung from the walls in shades of gold and red and auburn, scenes of meadows and rivers embroidered in the design. There were two rooms across from the main entrance with three beds in each and a door leading into the small chapel next door, Lucia’s only clue a silver cross nailed just above the entry.

“It’s not much,” the nun said. “But we are a small village and I am proud of our numbers.”

“It is lovely,” Lucia replied. “Where are they? The rest of the women-”

“Praying,” Hild gestured to the door where the silver cross hung. “It is their evening call. Normally, I would join them but Uhtred and the rest have been gone for some time.”

“And I am preventing you from joining them now,” Lucia said, eyes shifting to focus on the mud clinging to her boots. Would she ever prove to not be a burden of some kind to these new friends? “I am sorry, Hild-”

“For what? You did not choose that this would happen to you,” Hild replied. “We will get you sorted and then I will meet them for a drink at the pub, where they will be repeating their stories of battle, I am near certain of it.”

There was a light tone to her voice, a dare of a smirk appearing on the woman’s face as she took another long look of Lucia, who could only shift awkwardly in place. She felt as if she was being studied. 

“We have a spare bed in the room I share,” Hild continued. “You will stay here until you are properly healed and then we can sort out what is next for you, hm?”

Before Lucia could answer, a knock came at the door behind them. It was Finan and a ruddy faced older woman with thick blond hair in a long braid down her back. She carried a small bag with her and eyed Lucia almost immediately.

“Which bed?” the woman asked, her accent distinctly Dane.

“Mathilda, come, follow me,” Hild said as she waved them toward the room on the left. “Finan, you stay out here.”

“Will do,” he replied, his hands held up passively. “Ya will not see me move from this place.”

Hild ushered both Lucia and Mathilda into the bedroom, Lucia catching Finan’s eyes for only a moment before the door was shut and it was just the three women standing there. 

“You must undress,” Mathilda commanded as she placed her bag on one of the beds beside her. “There is a fracture in your nose, some bruising and scratching on your chin- where else is there pain?”

“My ribcage,” Lucia said softly. “I think there are some broken.”

“Can you lift your arms up?” the Healer asked. 

“I would rather not,” she replied, her chest beginning to tighten. 

“Come now, child,” Mathilda moved closer toward her, her face softening. “We will cut you from this cloth if it is too hard but it would help to see.”

Lucia nodded, Hild stepping closer toward her as she made to remove her dress, but she winced in pain as she lifted her arms up. It seems after all the adrenaline from the last two days wore off, her body was crying out. She blinked back hot tears, shaking her head. 

“I am not usually so weak-”

“The Irishman told me you took a Dane down who was more than twice your size,” Mathilda said with a tilt of her head. “That does not sound like weakness to me.”

Lucia rubbed at her eyes, a laugh that caused her to wince escaping from her lips.

“That was dumb luck.”

“Luck tends to help win those kinds of battles,” Hild offered kindly.

Mathilda reached into her bag and brandished a pair of scissors, gesturing with her free hand for Lucia to turn around. She felt thankful to have grabbed those other dresses from the barn as she felt the Healer snip at her dress, cutting down from the collar to the bodice. Hild was there to help her step from her boots and the ragged linens, leaving her standing there in just her plain white smock, the thin straps hanging on her shoulders.

She could hear a faint gasp from both women as she stood with her back to them and it took a moment before Lucia realized- without her dress, the scars from Tredan’s lashes were in full view. They were rather faint, mostly white wisps now, but still they were there and a forever reminder of her time as someone else’s slave.

“Please do not feel badly,” Lucia told them as she turned around to face them both. “The man who gave me those marks will never be able to do so again-”

It was as much what she needed to hear as what she hoped would soothe both women taking care of her. Tredan could never again hurt her. It felt good to repeat that to herself, small reminders that her life had changed so drastically in just a few short days.

“Come have a lie down,” Mathilda pointed toward the bed. “I will be applying some pressure to see where the breaks may be-”

Lucia did as she was told and lay down flat on her back, sinking into the mattress with a catch of her breath. She had not slept in a real bed since she was a child and she missed the way it felt. 

As Hild hovered close to the door, Mathilda covered Lucia up to her waist with a thin blanket before shifting the smock up over her hips to expose her torso. She appreciated the attempt at modesty. She could not see her own skin that well from where she lay but she could feel as the Healer got to work, rough fingers pressing gently at her ribs and Lucia sucking in a breath with every poke. 

“There is significant bruising along your right side,” she noted. “I do not know for sure but I suspect two here based on how hard you try not to cry out-”

Lucia looked up to find a tight smile from Mathilda.

“I will wrap you with bandages to keep these from moving,” she continued, nodding her head toward her bag as Hild moved to provide whatever she may need. “You must not lift anything too heavy or swing any weapons until you are healed.”

“And my nose?”

Mathilda chuckled as she unwound thick white bandages from the bundle Hild gave her. 

“Sit up,” she instructed. 

Lucia did as she was told, pushing herself up with her arms, body shaky as she straightened her back. Hild had made a move to help her but Lucia shook her head with a tense smile. She wanted to be able to do this herself. Still, she could feel the abbess pile up pillows behind her back for the extra support. 

“I am happy to break it back into place,” Mathilda said as she began to tightly wrap the bandages around Lucia’s torso, speaking over the groans of pain from her patient. “But it will hurt-”

“More than this-” Lucia gasped, hands clutching at the sheets as the Healer continued on.

“Yes,” Mathilda said before noticing the grimace on her face. “But it will be quick?”

Lucia grit her teeth as Mathilda wrapped the edges of the bandage under her breasts, the weight of them forcing her posture straighter. Breathing still felt like a chore but she at least knew she was on the road to recovery, her fingers touching at the heavy gauze gingerly.

“Thank you,” she said, voice cracking slightly. 

“You won’t be thanking me when you’re bleeding from your face in a moment-” she chuckled. 

“At least this time it will be a wanted pain,” Lucia said thoughtfully.

“Hild, give her your hand, she will need it-”

The nun sat swiftly on the bed beside her, offering her a terse smile before reaching both her hands out. Lucia took hold of them without hesitation as Mathilda inched closer. 

“Are you ready?” Hild asked, voice barely above a whisper.

But before Lucia could even nod her head yes, Mathilda had reached for the girl’s face and with both thumbs cracked her nose back into place. The pain was sudden and swift and as the blood trickled from her nose, Lucia blinked back fresh tears.

“You know, I’d have thought you’d at least scream-”

\--

Lucia was alone in the back bedroom, smock back in place, body still propped against the pile of pillows Hild had put together for her. Mathilda had left behind a care kit. The small basket was stacked high with bandages for replacement, salves for any muscle pain, and a warning not to exert too much physical activity for at least the next month. She would be back to check in on her periodically but as she stated, Lucia was young and otherwise healthy and as long as she didn’t do anything stupid, she would be just fine. 

“How is she?”

Finan’s voice was distinct and a welcome sound to Lucia’s ears. The door to the bedroom had not been completely closed as Hild and Mathilda left her, for which she was grateful. She was not so sure she was ready to be left alone with just her thoughts.

“She is no stranger to pain,” Mathilda said with a click of her tongue. 

“She will be fine,” Hild replied quickly. “Mathilda, we are grateful for your help.”

“I will be back in the morning to check in on her sleep-”

There were heavy footsteps and then the creaking of a door opening and closing. 

After a moment of pause, she could hear Hild. 

“Care to enlighten me on what happened?”

“Aye, well, ya know, it’s a bit of a mess, innit?” Finan chuckled. “One minute we were on our way back to Coccham and the next, there’s this beautiful woman stumblin’ out of the woods, half dead-”

“She escaped?”

“Bashed in a Dane’s face with a floorboard-” and it sounded like pride lingered in Finan’s voice.

There was a knock, another shuffle of footsteps, and then another voice.

“Dinner is ready in the Main Hall-” 

Osferth’s voice was soft enough to bring a smile to Lucia’s face as she settled herself among her pillows, trying to find some sort of comfort even with these bandages. Her stomach rumbled as if on cue and she hoped that he did, in fact, have a plate for her as Hild requested. She felt permanently hungry these days.

“I brought you both a plate, just in case,” he continued. 

“Osferth, that is very thoughtful,” Hild replied. “Let us see if our guest is ready to eat.”

As footsteps approached, Lucia tucked back under the covers, playing as if she dozed off. She did not want to be found eavesdropping- even if that was exactly what she was doing. 

“Lucia?”

She blinked opened her eyes, rubbing at them gently. 

“Would you like to eat?” Hild was hovering in the doorway, peering down at her curiously.

“Oh, I would, yes-”

But as she threw back the covers, she realized all she wore was her smock. Thick as it was, it was still unlike anything she had ever worn before in the company of men, without sleeves or much coverage of her chest. Hild stepped further into the bedroom and closed the door behind her. 

“Here-”

There was a large wooden wardrobe along the back wall. Hild opened the door on the right and pulled out a tunic that looked very much like the robes she was wearing. She turned to face Lucia, looking down to the garment before looking back to her. It was as if she read her mind.

“Will this work?” she asked. “It is one of mine and I am sure you are not planning to join the sisterhood but-”

“This is very generous, thank you,” Lucia said. 

“It is of no bother,” Hild replied with a smile. “Do you need help?”

Lucia nodded, no such pride left after her visit with Mathilda. 

“Yer not joining the nunnery, are ya?”

Finan and Osferth were seated at the dining table in the main room, both in conversation when Lucia and Hild came from the back room. She glanced down at the tunic she wore, a smirk teasing at her face as she shared a glance with Hild. 

“I am not against the idea,” she replied as she approached the table.

“We’ve already lost one good woman,” he replied indignantly, eyeing Hild. 

“Maybe it was her journey with you that has Lucia thinking of answering the call,” Hild offered.

Osferth did nothing to hide the laughter that sprang forth.

“Well, I suppose she wouldn’t be the first,” Finan admitted with a knowing gleam to his eyes.

Lucia did not expect that answer and as her laughter came, she clutched at her ribs, wincing only slightly as she settled into a seat beside Hild at the table. Finan and Osferth sat across from them, Osferth pushing their plates toward them.

“Are neither of you joining the feast in the Main Hall?” Lucia asked.

“We wanted to see how you were doing,” Osferth said. “Are you well?”

“And will ya be able to drown out the pain with a drink from the pub?” Finan asked.

“I would not risk Mathilda seeing me out of bed so soon,” Lucia told them truthfully.

The Healer had been very clear about at least one good night of rest and the last thing she wanted to do was upset the woman who could break her nose without much effort. She shrugged her shoulders with a sheepish smile in the direction of both men. 

“She’s a fearsome woman, that one,” Finan nodded. 

\--

When Hild had returned from the pub, Lucia was curious to learn of her evening. The abbess had been flush with ale and adventurous tales from the men. She had even mentioned Lucia’s bonfire trick, as Finan coined it, and mentioned a similar situation she had found herself in during the battle of Dunholm. 

Lucia had tried not to bring up Uhtred, to see if the Ealdorman of Coccham had asked after her, but it seemed Hild was much better at reading people than she would have preferred. 

“Uhtred will be here in the morning with Mathilda,” she said casually before preparing for bed. “He had hoped to visit you earlier but his daughter would not let him out of her sight once he returned home-”

“Beocca mentioned his children,” Lucia replied, remembering the priest’s earlier comment. “But no one has spoken of Uhtred’s wife-”

“The Lady Gisela died in childbirth, near two years ago now-”

“Oh-” Lucia felt a sickness settle into her stomach. “Oh, that is horrible-”

“She was wonderful,” Hild said with a smile. “-and is dearly missed. He has been distracted since with duty to the King-”

“I know what that is like,” she frowned. “To lose someone so close to you and still have to go on living afterwards- it is all you can do to throw yourself into whatever distraction you can.”

“You sound as if you have much in common,” Hild stated.

Lucia had never been in love before. She knew that whatever love she felt for her parents was a much different kind of love from what Uhtred must have felt for Gisela. Still, she nodded her head, thinking perhaps there was something between them they both struggled with, a way of coping with loss.

She went to bed with that thought in her mind.

But even on her Healer’s orders, Lucia was still struggling with sleep.

She was not one for restless nights, not usually, but her body would still not settle. She lay in her bed, body wrapped in a thick blanket, head propped by a feather pillow, feeling more comfortable than she ever had and yet, sleep would not come. 

She could hear the soft breathing of the women in the room with her, Hild on one side and a young nun named Sarah on the other. She met the remaining sisters when they returned from evening prayer and they were both overtly curious and quite nice to Lucia. 

She had done her best to answer their questions without saying too much. 

She felt overwhelmed with how much talking she had done in the last few days, especially about herself and her past. It had returned so many emotions to her, it had brought her father’s voice back to her- perhaps it was not just her injuries that kept her awake but her history and her memories as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been so excited for Hild to enter the scene and I'm very excited to introduce more of life in Coccham - our merry men are due a little downtime, I think! Hope you liked and thank you so much for continuing to read!


	6. trying to catch a breath through the air of death

“Why are you walking so slowly?”

“Mathilda is very aggressive with her bandage wrapping.”

“If you cannot move, you heal much faster.”

Lucia settled in at the dining table with a grimace, her body sliding onto the bench awkwardly due to her stiff back thanks to Mathilda’s work at replacing her bandages. Uhtred had come along for the visit but made sure to stay out in the main room while Mathilda and Lucia worked at her injuries. 

The Healer offered Lucia another bright smile before snatching a scone from a round plate on the table. She made mention she would visit again in the next week but that Lucia should be just fine on her own for now.

“Thank you for taking such care with this broken body,” Lucia said. 

“You are an easy patient,” Mathilda chuckled. “Others whine and thrash and cry too much.”

“She is not speaking of me,” Uhtred grinned.

“Am I not?” the Healer asked with a slight twinkle to her eyes.

“Oh, begone woman,” he barked, though the tinge of laughter in his tone betrayed his words. 

Mathilda was laughing again as she pressed her hand to Uhtred’s shoulder, squeezing it a bit before grabbing her bag and swinging it over her shoulder. There was such a gentle familiarity between them, much like his hug with Hild the day before. It brought a calm to Lucia just to watch them.

“I will be off,” she announced. “Lucia, do not let Uhtred and his men tempt you from your rest.”

“Is a walk not allowed?” he asked, his gaze settling in on Lucia as he spoke.

“A walk is the _only_ thing allowed,” Mathilda said before closing the front door behind her. 

“She is formidable,” Lucia said in amusement. 

“She lived with my family for a time,” Uhtred said, absently tapping his fingers against the wood of the table. “She treated many broken bones when I was a child- I am lucky to have found her again.”

Lucia considered Uhtred carefully, knowing that there was likely a windy road of history behind him. Here was a man who considered himself half-Dane, an Ealdorman for the King of Wessex, employing a pagan Healer to tend to an injured woman biding her time at a nunnery. It was all quite captivating for someone like Lucia, a woman who felt very much between two worlds herself. 

Especially now as he sat across from her, without his armor, looking more vulnerable than she had seen him since their time together.

“If you are not too busy, Lord, I think a walk would be quite nice,” she said.

“I would be happy to show you Coccham in the daylight, Lady Lucia.”

Her nose wrinkled with laughter as she shifted from her spot on the bench, hand pressing at her back as she stood to her feet. Uhtred rose to his feet quickly, moving around the edge of the table to steady her.

“I’ve already told you, I am no Lady.”

“You are the daughter of a general who served for the Holy Roman Empire,” he countered, tilting his head down to look at her, his brow raised. “That is a birth of status-”

“That hardly matters here,” she said, shaking her head. “I spent the last thirteen years a slave.”

“These people will find any reason to strip you of your dignity if you let them,” Uhtred replied. “But you are allowed to still be who you were before, who you likely still are.”

“How can you know that?” she asked, meeting his gaze.

“Before I was Uhtred Ragnarson, I was Uhtred of Bebbanburg,” he said. “I am something in between now, and I have Coccham to call my own until I can one day regain Bebbanburg.”

“You’re rather fascinating, you know that?”

Her words brought a chuckle to Uhtred and he shook his head.

“You are dodging the conversation-”

“We did say we would walk, did we not?” she asked, tilting her head toward the front door.

He smiled as he nodded his head, gesturing for Lucia to go ahead.

They stepped into the cool morning air, the sun bright on their faces as they left the nunnery. Lucia closed her eyes, tilting her head back as the sun washed over her skin. The warmth was rather nice, even if she was wearing a dress better suited to the autumn. Beocca had delivered her things to the nunnery before sunrise, Lucia surprised to find them folded neatly at the end of her bed when she woke. 

She did not want to admit that she was pleased to have something other than a nun’s robes for Uhtred’s visit- even if it was just a plain green dress, suited only for a servant.

When she opened her eyes, she noticed he was staring at her, a softness to his expression.

“Are you ready?”

“Will you mind walking slowly?” she asked, offering him a sheepish smile.

“We can move as slowly as you’d like.”

He led her away from the main path, walking along a narrow road where small houses lay on either side. They would stop briefly to let children run after one another in some sort of game. It was a beautiful day outside, the sky a bright blue and not a cloud in sight. As they meandered through the village, it was apparent Uhtred was someone the villagers admired, with bright greetings and waves as they walked toward the main path and on to the market.

It was a companionable silence for a while. Uhtred walked beside her with his hands clasped behind his back, and Lucia could not help but spare a glance at him every so often, wondering how on Earth she had managed to find herself here.

As they approached the different stalls, bustling with activity, Lucia cleared her throat.

“I was born Lucia Magdalena Lisabetta Bonaventure,” she said, the words sounding foreign to even her own ears; it had been so long since she’d said them. “And I am the only one left with the Bonaventure name.”

Uhtred chuckled, “And I thought Bebbanburg was a mouthful.”

“Oh, you see, my parents could not agree on a name,” she told him with a rueful smile. “So, instead, I have them all.”

“I had a different name when I was born. But I became Uhtred when I was a young boy.”

Lucia’s steps slowed as she turned to look at him with a curious twitch of her brow.

“It is a long story,” he said with a wave of his hand.

“You and your long stories are beginning to amass a rather extensive biography, Lord.”

“They are sad and as such not worth sharing, at least not now,” he told her, facing her. “We’ve much more important matters to discuss.”

“Such as?” she asked.

“What you will do here in Coccham-”

“Oh!” Lucia considered this. Was she even particularly good at anything? “Like a job?”

“Yes, I thought you might like to earn a real wage,” he said. “Perhaps have a place of your own here, if you’d like.”

“I do think it would be unfair to live in a nunnery when I have no intention in joining them.”

“Well, that is very good news,” Uhtred said with a quirk of a grin before he began to walk again.

For the second time in as many days, Lucia was left staring after him, mouth slightly agape. She narrowed her eyes at his back before taking short, albeit quick, steps to catch up with him. Lucia was not quite sure how to answer that and decided, instead, there was no good answer at all.

“What did you have in mind, Lord?” she asked as she fell into step with his gait, though she knew his was deliberately slower than usual due to her request.

“Your agreement with Osferth made me think you would prove valuable as a tutor-”

“Me?” Lucia blinked. 

Back home in Pavia, education was handled mostly by men of the cloth. Monks of all different proficiencies taught under the watchful eye of the empire, with the dutiful study of manifestos written by King Charlemagne, himself. She was lucky to have benefitted from this renaissance of learning, even if it were only for a few years before she was taken away.

But she had never heard of a woman teacher before.

“You can read and write, yes?” Uhtred asked.

“I can, Lord.”

“You speak multiple languages and you have some kind of patience to have lasted two days with my men without murdering one of us, I think that is all the requirement needed-”

Lucia could feel her cheeks start to warm, her smile widening.

“And who are my pupils?” she asked brightly.

“My children,” he replied. 

As if on cue, two children came bounding out of the Main Hall as they approached the building. Lucia watched as the young boy, eight or so years old, with a shock of blond hair and these wide and bright eyes, raced ahead of his presumably young sister. She was trying hard as she might but her legs were just not as long. Still, she had a determined look on her pale face, dark hair swinging wildly behind her as she tried to win whatever race this might be. 

“Not fair!” she whined.

But the young boy raised his hands above his head in victory as he approached them, quite pleased with himself. Lucia wondered if this walk had been timed, in order to dangle two adorable children in front of her so that it would be impossible to say no.

“Papa, he always wins,” the little girl cried as she finally caught up to them.

“The race was your idea,” the little boy replied.

Uhtred spared Lucia a glance before crouching down to meet his daughter at eye level.

“Stiorra, what have I told you?” he asked, his hands meeting his daughter’s face gently, fingers brushing through her windswept hair. 

“Something impossible now is not always” she grumbled, her tiny foot kicking at the dirt beneath her feet. She reached her arms up for Uhtred to hold her, to which her father quickly obliged. Lucia thought back briefly to what Hild said the night before and couldn’t help but smile, knowing she was much the same when she was young and wanted her father's attention.

“You’ve almost got it,” Uhtred chuckled as he cradled her on his hip. “Now, come meet your new teacher, both of you-”

“What happened to your face?” the boy asked as he came to stand by his father’s side, body near halfway behind Uhtred’s legs as he inspected Lucia. 

“Uhtred-” his father began but Lucia was quick to cut in.

“It’s alright,” she said, pressing gingerly to the bridge of her nose, realizing the bruising had started to take place. “It was broken- it happened during a nasty fall in a fight-”

“Did you win?” Stiorra asked, likely still miffed by her lost race.

“I am still here,” Lucia replied with a shrug. “And the other man looks much worse-”

“He does,” Uhtred replied with a grin. 

“Were _you_ there, papa?” the younger Uhtred asked.

“We came after,” he replied, free hand resting on the top of his son’s head, ruffling at his hair. “Lady Lucia held her own.”

“Not without a few bumps and bruises,” she laughed and before she could catch herself, said, “-which is much better than the alternative.”

“What’s that?” Stiorra asked, hands clutching at the fabric of Uhtred’s tunic.

“Oh- well, I-”

Lucia looked to Uhtred. His children seemed no stranger to the stories of war but Lucia did not feel as if death was a suitable topic for children so young. She felt foolish to bring it up at all. But there was no imminent frustration on Uhtred’s face. He merely shrugged his shoulders, gesturing for Lucia to follow him as he turned back toward the Main Hall.

“To lose,” Uhtred said simply. “Lucia, do you want to join us for lunch?”

\--

The Main Hall was beautiful in a way that Lucia could not describe. 

The interior felt distinctly different from any other Saxon home Lucia had seen, though she hadn't been in many other homes at all. But it had a warmth that immediately gave her comfort. She could not help but admire the candles burning all around, the furs and tapestries hanging on the walls, the intricate wrought iron chandeliers dangling from the ceiling. 

Lunch had been a far cry from the porridge she was given as her daily ration from Lord Tredan, with meats and cheeses and fruits she had not been allowed to eat since she was a child. It also came with a variety of questions from the little ones. 

Where was she from? Why did she have an accent? Was she going to stay in Coccham? Could she braid Stiorra’s hair in a similar style? Was she a warrior like their father? What would she teach them?

She had been careful with her replies, knowing that a story about a young girl stolen away to be a slave was exactly the kind of thing to leave his children with nightmares. So, she chose her truths and hid anything too dark. Uhtred watched her with each reply, sometimes smiling, sometimes nodding small thanks as she danced over certain details.

“What are your expectations, Lord, for tutoring?” she asked.

Uhtred sat at the head of the table, Stiorra now fast asleep in his arms, while his son sat across from Lucia, watching her as she spoke. He was a quiet boy, reserved and polite, but Lucia could not blame him for still being curious. He had his forearms resting on the table, his chin atop his hands. 

“My expectations?”

“In Pavia, education and religion were very much entwined,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “So, most of my learning was based on Christian writings-”

A tension settled in his face almost instantly.

“My children will learn of the old gods,” he replied. “They will be raised as I was-”

Lucia knew very little about paganism. She had learned briefly of the mythologies of the old Roman gods like June and Jupiter, but those were used as tales of morality and nearly always juxtaposed against Christianity in a way that showcased how dark and dangerous the old gods were.

But darkness and danger lingered in every religion, Lucia knew.

“Then, perhaps, I will be in need of a tutor as well,” she said, offering him a slight smile.

Uhtred did not immediately respond. She supposed he expected an argument but Lucia was in no hurry to suggest to him what his children should be learning. It was not her business nor did she feel a particular leaning one way or another.

“Papa tells us stories of Odin and Thor at bedtime,” the younger Uhtred piped up. “He can tell you, too! Right, Papa?”

“I would be happy to tell the Lady of Pavia a bedtime story,” Uhtred said and there was a hint of something wicked behind his eyes.

“That would be quite difficult to do in the nunnery,” she mused, surprising herself.

“But you will not be in the nunnery forever.”

There was not much more Uhtred could say with his children present, especially with one curled up in his arms. It might have been why Lucia felt so bold in that moment, though the tips of her ears felt hot with the intent of his stare. She pressed her lips together, preventing the nervous laughter in her throat from rising up. 

Lucia had thought almost too much about the tension that lingered between them, the way he often looked at her and the teasing words that would make her blush. Yet even in the short days they knew each other, she felt comfortable in his presence. 

But she had to remind herself of that very thing: it had only been a few days.

Too much of her life had changed too quickly for Lucia to trust what she was feeling just yet. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhtred is totally in the running as Coccham's Father of the Year, right? Season 4 viewers please stop laughing. 
> 
> Anyway, tune in next time for an answer to the biggest question: Will Lucia finally get her bath?


	7. by those who preach and pray and teach

Lucia had never been so excited to see a pot of boiling water before. 

One of the small perks of staying with Hild in the nunnery was access to a private bathing area meant just for the sisters. It was off the back of the building, surrounded by tall wooden fences with pretty hanging greenery but open to the bright blue sky. She had never seen anything quite like it, actually. 

Still, she felt a bit silly standing there, hovering barefoot and in her smock, watching as Hild and Sarah went back and forth to fill the tub for her with hot water. They had been quick to quiet her when she tried to help, threatening that Mathilda would not be pleased if she were to hurt herself. 

“There you go,” Hild instructed as she tested the water with her fingers. “Should be enough not to boil your skin off.”

“This looks heavenly,” Lucia replied, shimmying her straps down her shoulders so she could step from her smock. “Thank you both.”

“Do you need help with your bandages?” Sarah asked. 

“Oh, yes, I suppose I do-” she said, her hands shifting to cover her breasts as her smock lingered at her hips. “Do you mind?”

Sarah shook her head and stepped forward, fingers gently tugging at the knot to loosen the tight wrap Mathilda placed there the day prior. Lucia could not help but think of lunch with Uhtred and his children, wondering what on Earth had gotten into her. She had been a flushed red mess by the end of the meal and made a rather sad excuse to leave and head back to the nunnery before the conversation could really continue.

The smirk on Uhtred’s face followed her all the way back.

She had stayed put since then, not needing any more run-ins with men who so much enjoyed flirting. Between Uhtred and Finan, she was finding herself at a near constant loss of words. And as she had said to Uhtred during her arrival to Coccham, she really did not mind the company of women. Lucia found she enjoyed getting to know the other sisters in the nunnery and Hild, especially. 

And now she had the benefit of a bath.

“I will come back in a while to help you out and get you wrapped up again,” Hild said as she lingered near the doorway.

“I would be grateful,” Lucia replied.

“You do not have to be so thankful,” Hild laughed ruefully. “We take care of each other here.”

Sarah finished unwrapping her bandages leaving Lucia eager to hop into the hot water. The young nun dropped them into a small basket by the tub before moving to follow after the abbess. 

“There is a little enclosure there with soaps,” Sarah offered. “Feel free to use whatever you need.”

“Thank you very much, Sarah,” she told her, before laughing slightly. “Sorry, there I go again-”

The young nun laughed and shook her head.

“It is quite alright. Enjoy your bath.”

With that, Lucia was alone in the little enclosure. She stood for a moment, her hands shimmying her smock down her hips. Her body was still stiff, the ache in her bones not exactly dulling. But with careful steps she was able to climb into the tub and let her body sink into the steaming hot water. 

She let out a heavy breath as she leaned back against the edge of the tub. 

Her toes wriggled out of the water briefly as she stretched her legs, her hands running over her skin. Just the warmth of the water eased her muscles. She shifted slightly, hands working at her braid. Her chestnut colored hair fell in deep waves around her shoulders and Lucia winced as she pulled at a few knots at the nape of her neck. When was the last time she washed her hair? 

With a deep breath, she dunked her body under the water completely.

Little bubbles of air escaped from her nose as she hovered under the water, Lucia trying to center herself before breaking through the surface. It felt as if she had just lived through the longest few days of her life, each minute feeling impossible to ever forget. Her future had changed in an instant and it all brought her here, to Coccham.

She rose slightly, peeking her head above the water now, hands brushing her wet locks out of her face. Still, she kept hunched in the tub, waterline at the tips of her shoulders as she reached for the soap Sarah had pointed out. It smelled like chamomile and lavender. 

In a matter of moments, she was covered in sudsy bubbles and her hair felt a squeaky clean as she rinsed it.

“You look like a brand new woman,” came Hild’s voice.

Lucia let out a laugh of surprise as she turned in the tub to see the abbess enter with a pile of linens in her arms. Her fingers curled around the edge of the tub as she peeked up at her, a smile on her freshly clean face.

“Is it the black and blue I must call a nose or the clean hair?” she asked.

“The hair,” Hild said with a chuckle. “How do you feel?”

“Like a brand new woman,” Lucia repeated and it felt somewhat true even as she said it. 

Maybe Uhtred was on to something when he said she could be who she was before. Or maybe this was an opportunity to become some version of it- older, hopefully wiser, and with a freedom she did not think was possible. 

“Glad to hear of it,” the abbess replied. “Are you ready to come out?”

“Are you saying I cannot just live in this little alcove in this little tub?”

“Imagine how difficult it would be to do things such as eat and sleep,” Hild offered.

“Oh, that is true-”

Hild held out a thick sheet armspan wide as Lucia begrudgingly rose to her feet. The air was warm but it did little to prevent the gooseflesh creeping into her skin as she left the heat of the water. She took the sheet from Hild and wrapped it around her body as she stepped from the tub, her bare feet hitting the cool stone floor. 

“I’m not sure if you know yet,” Lucia began as she turned back to face Hild. “But I’m to start tutoring Uhtred’s children in the coming days. He said I could begin once I have had a bit more rest-”

“He made mention,” Hild replied as she unraveled fresh bandages for Lucia’s ribs.

“I am nervous,” she continued, huddling in the cloth. “I was raised Christian- I’ve never even seen a pagan text before-”

“Perhaps there are other ways you can focus on reading and grammar,” the abbess suggested.

Lucia sucked on the inside of her cheek as she turned back around, dropping the sheet to her waist so that Hild could help wrap her torso. She could create her own sentences as she helped young Uhtred with his structure and pick random words for Stiorra in her spelling. At the very least she could make a go of it until she felt more educated in anything Pagan.

And although Uhtred made quite the teasing remark about bedtime stories, he did seem keen on sharing his religion. She had to admit she was actually quite curious. The mention of Vahlhalla had piqued her curiosity during their encounter with the Danes. 

Did that make her a bad Christian?

“Is it wrong?” Lucia asked suddenly, barking the question out as Hild tightly secured her bandages. “Is it a betrayal to my faith?”

The abbess did not reply immediately. 

Lucia wrapped the sheet back around her body, turning around to face the nun. She seemed to be in thought, her hands workingly absently at the cross hanging from her neck. After a moment, she looked up to meet Lucia’s gaze with a faint smile. 

“It has not always been easy to be a Christian woman and a friend to Uhtred,” she said, and after a moment laughed. “For many reasons, actually. But especially in our constantly battling faiths.”

“How did you manage?” Lucia asked. 

“Through trust,” she replied. “For all his rashness, Uhtred has been my greatest friend. His support throughout these years has allowed me to find myself in ways I did not expect and he helped build this nunnery with his own hands.”

“And yet he will not believe himself,” Lucia shook her head. “He is a contradiction.”

“One that will constantly test you,” Hild laughed. 

“I am beginning to see this.”

“Lucia, it does not make you a bad Christian to help his children learn,” the abbess said then, her voice soft but firm. “I cannot speak for God but that is what I feel.”

“I hope you are right,” she replied, as she reached for her smock. “Because it was impossible to say no to those little faces-”

“Yes, he knew exactly what he was doing,” Hild mused. “Let’s get you dressed.”

\--

“Abbess, there is  _ another _ man at the door-”

Adallinda was an older sister living in the nunnery, a petite woman with deep lines in her forehead and the corners of her eyes and freckles scattered across most of her body. She looked mildly distressed as she hovered in the doorway of the back bedroom, her hands flexing against the skirt of her plain robes. 

Lucia supposed that men did not often come to call at the nunnery and she did her best to stifle her laughter at how out of sorts Adallinda looked. 

“Who is it?” Hild asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Your friend, the Irishman,” she replied. “I told him we are near afternoon prayer but he wishes to see our guest- he said he has something for her.”

Lucia was combing through her wet hair, her fingers working through the waves as the nun’s words registered. Finan was here.  _ For her _ . She paused, tucking her hair behind her ears, looking to Adallinda with a tilt of her head.

“For me?” she asked. “What could that possibly be?”

“I suppose you ought to go and find out,” the abbess replied with a hint of a smirk. 

Hild and Adallinda followed her out into the main room where the rest of the sisters waited to begin prayer in the chapel. She smiled at Sarah before realizing Finan was nowhere in sight.

“Where is he, Adallinda?” 

“He is outside!” she exclaimed. “It’s not proper to have a man in here-”

“Oh, right, sorry, of course-” Lucia replied, her eyes briefly meeting Hild’s as she moved toward the front door. The abbess merely shrugged her shoulders before she gestured for the other sisters to follow through the door to the chapel. 

“Give Finan my best,” was Hild’s last remark before disappearing into the chapel.

Talk about contradictions, Lucia thought, as she smiled to herself. 

\--

“Looks like ya finally got that bath, eh?”

Finan stood just outside the nunnery with his hand shielding his eyes from the sunlight, one squinted shut as Lucia approached. He was without his chainmail and armor, the deep forest green of his tunic so dark it almost seemed black if not for the sun to show the faint hints of color in the stitching. He held a leather sheath and belt in one hand, the hilt of the saex familiar to Lucia almost immediately.

“You know, the nuns are beginning to panic with how many men have been visiting lately.”

“Just lettin’ them have a little somethin’ extra to pray about,” Finan replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “Gotta keep ‘em on their toes, I figure-”

“That is devilish talk!” Lucia shook her head with laughter. 

“‘Tis the only kind I got,” he said and for a split second there was a gleam of something behind his eyes that brought a kind of fluttery feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“I am sure that is not true.”

Finan cocked his head to the side as he took a good look at her, his eyes seemingly searching her face. She could not help but take a breath as he reached out, fingers grazing gently at her chin, eyes settling on her nose. 

“You’re beginning to heal,” he said, his voice gentle. “Ya look good- the bruisin’ I mean-”

He let his hand drop and Lucia could feel her skin tingle where he touched her. 

“You are full of it,” she laughed. “I gave Uhtred’s children a scare when they saw me yesterday.”

“Oh, ya saw Uhtred’s rascals?” Finan asked, free hand rubbing at his temple. 

“I had to meet my new pupils,” she told him. The more she thought about it, the more excited she became. She thought her mother might even be proud if she were around, always instilling in Lucia how essential her education was when she was a child. “I will begin in a few days, once it does not hurt so much to bend.”

“Ya know, I could make a joke right now-” he began but Lucia swatted at his shoulder.

“You could also congratulate me.”

Finan’s face softened and he nodded his head.

“Aye, I could-” he told her. “It will be good work. They’re good kids- tough, but likely better students than the baby monk.”

She swatted at his shoulder again and this time he barked out a laugh.

“Adallinda said you had something for me?” 

He followed her gaze, holding the leather sheath up to her eye level. 

“I found this in my things-” he said, narrowing his eyes at her. “I did not expect it back.”

“But it’s yours,” she said, perplexed. “Why would I not return it?”

“I wouldn’t have spared it if I needed it so desperately,” he told her. “Besides, ya need something to protect yourself.”

She looked up at the Irishman with a wrinkle of her nose. She had tucked the saex back into his bag after they finished with the Danes. She had been grateful he had been generous enough to share it for the evening, but she did not think it was a permanent gift. 

“And  _ Soulsliver _ will do that?” she questioned, a smirk tugging at her lips. 

“It might,” he argued back. “Either way ya need to make sure you’re always armed-”

“Why?”

It was a stupid question, Lucia knew. She was not ignorant to the threats that could befall them, especially knowing Uhtred let Oluf go. As secure as Coccham felt, he could easily come back with an army of Danes to seek revenge. But she wanted to know why Finan seemed so intent on it.

“Because ya been through enough already, ya don’t need any more trouble,” he told her. “And havin’ this will make me worry less. It’s not like ya don’t know how to use it and-”

“You worry about me?” Lucia interrupted, intent on that one word.

“Who said that-” Finan shook his head, a slightly panicked look on his face. 

“You did,” she said, smiling. “Just now.”

“Aye, well, maybe-” he admitted with a slight smile.

The sheepish look on his face surprised Lucia. She didn’t know how to respond. He had been intent on making sure she was alright since returning to Coccham- but even before that, checking in on her in the tent, sharing battle stories with her about particular pains and aches. He found ways to relate to her that made her feel alright with what she was experiencing. 

And she appreciated it so much.

“I will take it,” she said, finally. “I think you’re right that I should be armed.”

A wave of relief settled on the Irishman’s face as he held out the belt for her.

“I thought this might be helpful,” he said, and she realized it looked very similar to the one he wore around his waist. “I worked on it yesterday-”

“You made this for me?” She marveled at the craftsmanship, especially the little detailing in the braided leather. “It’s lovely.”

“It’s nothin’ at all,” he said, hand raking through his hair. “But it’s got space for anythin’ else you might want, a dagger or somethin’, ya know-”

She immediately fastened it around her waist, careful to let it sit just below her bandages. She had to admit it made her feel a little bit stronger- the weight of the saex on her hip felt like an extra power she could possess whenever she needed to. 

“What do you think?”

She twirled a little bit, the skirts of her dress whipping up around her ankles as she moved. 

“It looks great-” Finan coughed slightly. “Makes ya look just the intimidatin’ warrior.”

Lucia laughed, knowing full well there was nothing all that intimidating about her, but she appreciated the sentiment nonetheless. Especially from Finan, who was at a level in fighting she might never possess. She thought back briefly to the reaction he had when she pushed the Dane into the firepit. He had seemed impressed and maybe proud and suddenly she hoped she would see that from him again. She pressed her lips together as she looked up at him again only to find his gaze was intent on her. 

“Would you help train me?” she asked. “When I am better and Mathilda lets me, of course.”

“Me?” Finan seemed surprised. “I’m surprised Uhtred has not already offered.”

“We talked about training but not a specific instructor,” she said as that conversation replayed in her brain. But as her hand rested on the hilt of Soulsliver, she could not help but shrug. “You would know this weapon the best, though, wouldn’t you?”

“Aye, I would.”

“Then it’s settled.”

“I will not be easy on ya,” he warned her, though there was a hint of mischief in his tone.

“I would hope you will train me as if you would anyone else,” Lucia told him with a tilt of her chin in his direction. “I can handle it.”

“Ya can,” Finan nodded solemnly. “And maybe ya can show me a few sword tricks from Lombardei in return.”

She smiled widely at the mention of her home country. Her mother had not been pleased when her sword training began but her father had instilled in her how important it would be, the only daughter of a general, to know how to defend herself.

“I could,” she said. “There are some differences, I’ve noticed.”

“I could tell by ya stance,” Finan said and he grinned. “A little bit wider, like ya getting ready for a dance-”

“Do you dance, Finan?” Lucia questioned.

The Irishman began to laugh. 

“I’ve got my talents, Lucia, but that might not be one of ‘em.”

“Then, I will teach you that as well,” she said simply. 

“We’re not dancin’,” he grumbled. 

“You say that now-” she teased. “But dancing is not very different from fighting.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, “And how’s that?”

“The steps, the movement,” Lucia said, almost sighing at the thought. “There’s a passion there that’s not dissimilar- of course, you hope the end result is a little different-”

“A  _ little _ different?” Finan chuckled. 

“Well, you’ll never know unless you try,” she said, hands settling on her hips. 

“Will I have ya as my partner then?” he asked.

“Perhaps.”

“Perhaps,” he repeated, scoffing slightly. “I will not dance with Beocca-”

Lucia winced as laughter racked her body. She clutched at her side as she giggled, the idea thoroughly ridiculous to her as she pictured it in her head.

“You’re imaginin’ it now aren’t ya?” Finan sighed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is nothing better than a hot and steamy bubble bath, am I right? 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading this little story! I had a few questions about posting cadence, and I am going to stick to Saturdays! I won't go longer than a week unless something really crazy comes up but since we're all still in self-isolation, I think I'm gonna be just fine! And don't worry, I have a few more chapters ready to go! 💕


	8. i need to be youthfully felt 'cause, god, i never felt young

The sisters prayed twice a day, a short call in the morning and then a longer visit later in the afternoon, just before supper. On certain occasions and Lucia did not understand the schedule, they would find time in the evening after supper, as well. Father Beocca would occasionally lead the scriptures but often it was Hild at the helm. Lucia felt obligated to join them, not wanting to seem rude to their hospitality. And if she were being honest with herself, no matter how contentious her thoughts with her faith were, she did miss the peace of prayer.

But she only managed for a few days before their schedule became much too much for her. 

It was her fifth day in Coccham when Lucia suggested she get some air instead, get to know Coccham a little bit better. Mathilda begrudgingly approved the idea during her last visit and Hild did not mind one way or another.

So as the sisters filed into the chapel, Lucia took the opportunity to explore.

She did not get very far into her walk before she began to hear the clatter of shields and what could only be described as a daring combination of curses coming from a rather surprising voice.

Just beyond the market stalls, in a clearing thick with green grass and little yellow wildflowers, Lucia caught sight of Osferth squaring off against Finan, the wooden swords they used reminding her of her first training session with her father. Her heart felt tight at the memory.

There was another loud bang as sword hit shield and a bright laugh from Finan as Osferth shook off the attack. The monk wriggled his shield arm with a good natured smile before swinging his sword again. She wrapped her arms around her torso as she stopped to watch.

It was Finan’s turn this time to shield himself from the hit and it was impossible for Lucia not to notice the flex in his arms as he moved. The gauzy linen tunic he wore did little to hide definition lingering beneath the fabric.

She swallowed, shifting her gaze away from the way his skin glistened in the sun as her own skin grew hot. She tugged at the collar of her dress as she let her eyes settle somewhere else. She spotted Sihtric off to the side. He was watching the fight from a wooden bench, the Dane draped lazily on his side, chewing on an apple and chuckling each time Osferth’s attacks were hit with Finan’s shield.

Osferth was rather good at defense but his weakness seemed to be in his attacks, Lucia remembering his words in the woods when they released the villagers from Elentone. He relied more on smart defense than offense. But she imagined in battle, there had to be a balance.

The monk brandished his sword in an effective hit against Finan’s shoulder but the Irishman used his body weight to push Osferth back. There was an appreciative chuckle from Finan and a “good, that’s it-” before spinning around in a counterattack leaving Osferth to trip and fall.

“Why must I always end up on my back-” he grumbled.

“There are moments in life when you'll appreciate this position,” Finan grinned.

“Yes but God help me you will not be the view,” Osferth laughed as he rolled to his side.

The monk used this moment to try and sneak in a low swing to catch Finan off guard. But the Irishman recovered quickly, jumping over the sword with ease and landing in a wide stance. Osferth scrambled to his feet and they sparred for a few moments longer before Osferth finally got in a good hit at Finan’s side. 

“Bless ya, baby monk,” he grinned. “That ends my turn-”

“Am I up?” Sihtric shifted to a sitting position, tossing the core of the apple behind him. 

“When is my break?” Osferth questioned, resting his weight on the hilt of the wooden sword. 

“When ya can get a hit on all of us-” Finan said with a wriggle of his eyebrows.

Sihtric jumped into the circle, wooden sword at the ready as Osferth took a rather long breath before he started his attack. But Lucia found little interest in the next round of sparring as Finan was off to the side now, using the bottom of his tunic to wipe the sweat from his brow. Just that little sliver of skin at his waist brought a flush of red to her cheeks.

“Enjoying the show?” 

Lucia whipped around to see Uhtred standing behind her, a wry smirk tugging at his lips.

“I’m sorry?” she faltered, an awkward chuckle passing through her lips.

“That will be you in the sparring pit soon enough,” he continued, gesturing to the Dane and the monk as they continued to fight. 

“Oh- of course,” she replied, sneaking a glance back at the two men before returning her gaze to Uhtred, relief rushing through her skin. “Yes, no doubt I will be much worse.”

“I am surprised you are not at prayer,” he said as he came to stand beside her. “I was beginning to think you were becoming a nun after all-”

“The sisters have been so kind, I did not want to decline their invitations so early,” she said, sparing him a sheepish glance. “But it  _ is _ so much prayer-”

He chuckled and the sound of it brought a smile to Lucia’s face.

“Come and keep us company,” he said. “Just do not tell Mathilda or she will have my head.”

Sihtric had Osferth in a loose headlock as Lucia and Uhtred approached. The monk offered her a meek smile and a wave of his sword before he finally managed to bend and toss Sihtric over his shoulder. The Dane landed with a hard thud and a hearty battle cry, clearly enjoying this match whether he was winning or losing. 

Finan was perched on the wooden bench, elbows resting on his knees. He had been intent on the sparring match, grinning as Sihtric lunged at Osferth’s legs. But as Lucia drew closer his attention shifted to her and he straightened his back. 

“Here to spectate?” he inquired as he slid to make room. 

“I was hoping for a quiet morning walk,” she said as she sat down beside him. “But you were all making so much noise, I had to come and see.”

“The baby monk is still a bit fresh to battle,” Finan told her.

“But he is much improved,” Uhtred said as he walked behind them to grab a sparring sword. 

“Aye,” the Irishman agreed. “I don’t worry nearly as much about his impendin’ death-”

“And you do worry, don’t you?” Lucia teased.

“Just when it’s necessary,” he said, his eyes narrowed but his voice playful.

“Which is always when it comes to Osferth,” Sihtric said from the center of the pit. 

The monk groaned with a roll of his eyes before taking advantage of the distracted Sihtric and swinging his sword, knocking the Dane back a few steps. Sihtric steadied his feet after a moment and straightened. He looked mildly impressed before nodding his head in concession.

“I let you win,” he said before making his way to the bench, plopping down beside Lucia.

“What if we took a break?” Osferth asked, his skin flush. “Just a bit of a rest-”

“Do you expect your enemy to rest?” Uhtred asked as he entered the circle, his wrist flexing, the sword moving with a flourish. 

“Perhaps-” the monk replied, shrugging his shoulders. “What if they are as tired as I am?”

Lucia laughed quietly from her spot between Finan and Sihtric. She watched as the monk steadied himself for the next round. She felt a tinge of sympathy for him, his exhaustion apparent. 

“Then you look for their weakness-” Uhtred said as he swung his sword, causing Osferth to duck behind his shield. “And you exploit it-”

Uhtred was fascinating to watch, an overpowering energy with a sword in his hand, even if it was made of wood. But Osferth was light on his feet. He spent much of his time dodging attacks and using his shield, this time more offensively. But it did not seem to be enough for Uhtred.

“Sihtric-” he bellowed before a flicker of a smile tugged at his lips. “Remind Osferth what it is like to fight from both sides-”

The Dane leapt up from his spot to immediately attack Osferth from behind, forcing the monk to use both his sword and shield. Lucia grimaced as she watched, nose scrunching as she realized that this might not be much different from her training in a few weeks time. 

“It's good to see ya walkin' about," Finan said, sparing her a glance. "How ya feelin’?”

“Regretful,” she lamented, watching the monk duck and lunge as Sihtric brought his sword down. “Poor Osferth is about to drop dead right in the grass and I am the next fool to suffer the same fate-”

He laughed heartily and she could feel his body shift beside her. Lucia turned to look at him, a smile of her own spreading across her face. She found she liked that she could make someone like Finan laugh.

“I did warn ya,” he told her with a knowing look. “We will get ya battle ready-”

“Better you than anyone else, I suppose,” she sighed dramatically. 

“I do look forward to it,” he said and there was something about the tone of his voice that Lucia found she wanted to hear more of.

“Aha!”

Lucia turned her attention away from Finan to watch as Uhtred stumbled back over Sihtric, the Dane certainly not expecting it and the two landing hard on the ground. She winced as Sihtric fell face down in the grass with a scowling Uhtred sprawled on top of him, both of them under the point of Osferth’s sword. He nudged it gently against Uhtred’s chin. It was a hit- and a win.

There was a quiet moment and then-

“How did this happen?” came Sihtric’s muffled voice.

“Uhtred was distracted,” Osferth said with a proud grin. “And I exploited that weakness-”

“Yes, good work-” Uhtred mumbled as he pushed the sword aside. “You are done for the day.”

Osferth reached out to help Uhtred to his feet. They briefly held arms as Uhtred’s scowl faded and he clapped his free hand on Osferth’s shoulder with something Lucia thought to be pride. 

She could not help but feel a bit surprised by the outcome but then she had missed a bit, too preoccupied with Finan to watch the rest of their match. She shifted in her seat, feet kicking lightly at the dirt as she watched Uhtred help Sihtric to his feet.

Uhtred did not look entirely pleased. 

“Finan- you up for another round?” he asked suddenly, and Lucia could not tell if he was looking at her or Finan or maybe both of them.

“Yes, Lord-” Finan said with a grin. He reached for the wooden sword he had propped beside him on the bench before winking at Lucia and jogging to where Uhtred stood in the middle of the clearing. 

Osferth dropped into the grass beside the bench. He propped himself up on his elbow and craned his neck to look up at Lucia. There was a curiosity in the monk’s stare and her brow furrowed. 

“What?” she asked, though she was keen to keep an eye on the match this time.

“Uhtred was distracted because of you-” Osferth replied, keeping his voice quiet.

Lucia did not understand so again, she repeated, “What?”

“You weren’t watching,” he continued. “And then he was watching you not watching him and suddenly I was done with my training-”

He did look rather pleased with himself.

“That’s silly,” Lucia replied.

But as she watched Uhtred and Finan square off, she noticed that Uhtred did spare a glance or two her way. Finan, on the other hand, seemed content to spar with his Lord. Lucia noticed the differences in the way they fought Osferth versus each other. They must have felt they were on equal footing. There was a finesse to their movements, and neither of them seemed to be holding back.

Sihtric sat beside her on the bench, face freshly rinsed with water from his leather pouch. Chuckling quietly, he knocked at Osferth’s elbow forcing the monk to have to reposition himself.

“You’re a lucky shit,” Sihtric laughed. “It is rare to catch Uhtred with his guard down-”

“I know-” Osferth mused.

The clanging of shields and swords were much harsher now, both men rounding the circle with their footwork, neither of them getting proper hits as the other knew just the right time to lift their shields. Lucia frowned.

“I think you’re wrong, Osferth,” she said, shaking her head. 

“About what?” Sihtric asked, glancing between them both.

“That Uhtred was showing off for Lucia,” Osferth said, picking at the wildflowers nearest him.

“Oh, he is right,” Sihtric replied. “It could not be more obvious, even now-”

“You are both very silly-” 

But even as she spoke, she watched as Uhtred managed to get underneath Finan’s feet, tripping the Irishman up enough to get a proper hit at his side. But instead of taking the win, Uhtred used his body weight to knock Finan back in a show of power and it forced the fight on.

“No, we are right,” Osferth grinned.

\--

“Are men really stupid?”

“Incredibly,” Hild replied without a moment’s thought. “It is one of the reasons why I devoted my life to the Lord. But I suspect that is not where this conversation is going.”

Lucia lay on her bed, arms at her sides, head tilted to watch the abbess as she folded freshly cleaned linens. The sisters rotated on all chores and it was Hild’s turn to handle the laundry for the nunnery. She sighed as she shifted to a sitting position, reaching to help with the pile, finding it very weird to sit and watch someone else handle what used to be part of her day to day in Tredan’s household.

“I fear I am a prize to be won,” she said. “In a contest I did not agree to-”

“As women often are,” Hild mused. “Where did your walk lead you this morning?”

“To a bunch of silly egos sparring in a field.”

“They do love an audience,” the abbess said with a hint of a smile. 

There was no winner between Uhtred and Finan, the two eventually conceding to the heat. She was grateful for that as she was not sure who she would have prefered to claim victory. She mulled over what Osferth and Sihtric told her, hands working at the sheet in her lap. But her mind wandered to Finan’s bright laughter and the way his attention shifted to her when she entered the clearing. 

“You do not need to fold it so small-” Hild laughed, snapping her from her thoughts. 

Lucia looked down at the sheet in her hands, looking as if she had folded it many times over and over until it was the size of a napkin. It seemed she had been too dazed by her thoughts. She placed the sheet in the folded stack beside her and looked up to Hild with a sheepish smile. 

“Now I am the distracted one,” she laughed in spite of herself.

“I can imagine there is much you’re considering about life in Coccham right now.”

“You could say that,” Lucia said with a tilt of her head. “But I wonder if I have become so used to following orders that my decision making skills are lacking or easily swayed by charming accents-”

The abbess considered this as she folded a thin woven blanket. Lucia did not quite know her own thoughts enough yet to be so plain with Hild but she could sense the abbess had an idea of what was unspoken.

“I could see how such a thing could be difficult for you,” Hild said finally. “But I have a feeling you will lead yourself to the right choice-”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing these boys will never stop being my favorite thing to do, I swear. 
> 
> If you've come here from tumblr, let's be friends! I'm @limenal there and always looking for more TLK friends.


	9. all heavy with love and sparks and crazy

“I do appreciate this, m’lady-”

Lucia had been near the window, perched against the sill as she watched dark clouds roll in. It had been sunny for so long, she should have expected a storm to hit sooner or later. She could feel the stickiness in the air as she held her hand out, the moisture clinging to her skin. 

She turned to face Osferth with a pointed stare.

“Has Lord Uhtred asked everyone to start calling me that now?” 

“He might have said some words along those lines,” Osferth replied as he fidgeted with the corner of his parchment. 

She sighed, moving from her spot at the window to sit across from him at the wooden table where he worked on his translations. They were in the home he shared with Beocca, Lucia learning that Beocca only recently moved to Coccham from Winchester after the death of his wife. Osferth had explained that Thyra was also Uhtred’s sister, a Dane who converted to Christianity when she fell in love with the priest. 

It felt hard to get it all straight but she was managing.

“How do you think you did?” she asked, peering across the table at his work. 

“It was a little tricky there at the end-” he said as he pushed his paper toward her. “But I feel confident.”

His penmanship was a little loopy, certain letters dropping below the rest. He watched her intently as she read through. He had explained that he knew how to read Latin fairly well but his writing skills were weak and his oral skills slower than he’d prefer. 

She had written a few different Bible verses in English and asked him to translate into Latin. It was a simple enough start to their lessons, she thought. With a pen she made tiny marks, the mistakes so far few, as she chewed on the inside of her cheek. 

“Do you ever think about going home?” 

Lucia looked up, startled by his question. But his eyes felt sincere as they studied her, a natural curiosity that she could not blame. She had a thousand questions for her new friends. Why would they not feel the same about her? 

“I don’t know if my home would even recognize me,” she told him. “My whole family is gone and the men who- well, I imagine the men responsible are quite glad to be rid of the whole lot of us.”

“You do not want revenge?” he asked, his fingers playing with the sleeves of his robes.

Lucia sucked on the inside of her cheeks as she thought of this, rolling her tongue around in her mouth. But she knew the answer almost immediately.

“I am not built for such things,” she answered truthfully. She offered Osferth a small shrug of her shoulder. “I am just glad to have survived it all and I think that my parents would be glad of that, too. Even if I am to carry on the Bonaventure name in Wessex instead of Lombardei.”

“So you will stay in Coccham?”

It had been ten days since her first arrival to Uhtred’s village. She had settled into a routine with the nuns and with Hild, helping with their chores as they in turn helped with her recovery. She continued to take walks during their calls to prayer, happy to explore and get to know the faces around her. 

But there was no denying how unusual it was for a single woman to roam freely, no family nor husband to account for her. While Uhtred seemed to have acquired a rather quirky assortment of loyal men from different castes, they were still men, and given a respect that Lucia was not sure she would ever receive on her own.

She could only do her best in ignoring some of the looks she garnered.

“I would very much like to,” she told him.

He smiled then and she could not help but return the gesture even as she slid the parchment back toward him. There were only a few marks in red ink, minor mistakes. 

“You did well,” she said. “But you might want to look at the grammar here and here-”

“Well that’s a bit better than I thought it would be,” he grinned. 

“You are much better than you led me to believe,” Lucia teased. “You do not need to be so modest, Osferth.”

“I am surprised as well,” he laughed. 

Lucia watched as he intently went through each line, making small notes to himself as he considered her marks. As they sat there, laughter spilled into the room from just outside the open window. She could not help but straighten her shoulders as she noticed a familiar chuckle lingering near the front door. Osferth looked up as he, too, noticed the sound and he offered her an apologetic glance.

“We will get no more work done once they walk through that door,” he warned her. 

Almost as if he summoned them, the front door opened with a bang. Beocca walked through first, face beet red and robes dripping wet, his boots leaving behind sloshing noises as he stalked through to his bedroom without a word. Sihtric was not far behind him, not nearly as soaked but his black hair hanging around his face in wet tendrils and a bit of grass hanging from one shoulder. Only Finan was dry, his hand clutching at his chest as he tried to stifle his laughter upon their interruption.

Lucia and Osferth exchanged curious glances before turning their attention back to the men.

“Beocca fell,” Sihtric explained, Finan’s laughter becoming contagious as the Dane tried to suppress his chuckles. “We were fixing a sail on the boat-”

“And  _ someone _ ,” Finan continued, eyeing Sihtric with a knowing glance. “-fiddled with the balance and the man went tumblin’ and then this one-”

“I could not get a good hold on him and I went face down,” Sihtric shrugged his shoulders.

“Yer both lucky I was there,” Finan said as he crossed his arms against his chest.

“Yes, so that you may never let me forget that it happened,” Beocca said.

He stood in the doorway of his bedroom as he wrapped a thick linen around his shoulders. He seemed to be in much better spirits and by the time he finished speaking the three of them were all doubled over in laughter. 

Lucia looked back to Osferth who caught her eyes immediately, the monk shaking his head with a knowing glance. She licked at her lips as she tried to prevent herself from laughing, the sound contagious and the look on Osferth’s face rather adorable in its earnestness.

“You know I think we’ve gotten enough done,” Lucia said to him as she rose from her spot at the table. “Shall we meet again in a few days?”

“Yes, I would like that very much,” he told her, rising from his spot as well. 

He reached into the pocket of his robes and pulled out a small coin purse. 

“What are you doing?” Lucia asked.

“You have spent nearly two hours with me, Lady,” Osferth said, reaching for some silver coins. “I am going to pay you for your time, it is only fair-”

“You don’t have to do that-”

“You’ve never paid me,” Beocca scoffed.

“It is your duty to God to teach me,” Osferth quipped to the chuckles of Sihtric and Finan.

“Really, we’re friends, are we not? This is a favor,” Lucia said, feeling her skin flush with heat.

“We  _ are _ friends,” the monk insisted, coming around the table. He reached for Lucia’s hand and slipped a few coins of silver into her palm. “Which is why you will be paid for every lesson.”

She glanced down, feeling the weight of the silver in her hand. She had never been paid for any of the hard work she had ever done for Tredan, of course, so this was an incredibly new feeling for her. She could not help but laugh as she closed her hand around her new wages.

“Osferth, thank you,” she said as she reached up on her toes to kiss him gently on the cheek. 

There was a pause as Osferth’s skin began to turn pink, his hand reaching to touch where she kissed. With a lopsided smile he shrugged his shoulders. “You are more than welcome, Lady.”

“You are not making a joke,” Sihtric said, turning his attention to Finan.

“And you know he wants to,” Beocca chuckled.

“I’m behavin’,” Finan said with a huff of breath. “Don’t act so surprised!”

Lucia pressed her lips together to prevent laughter from escaping. She could not help but find herself in a constant state of smile when she was around these men. They were unlike anyone else she had the benefit of spending time with, treating her as if she had somehow always been part of their group- not one of them viewing her as something to be used or ordered around.

“I should probably return to the nunnery,” she said, tucking her silver coins in the pocket of her skirts. She made a mental note to see if she could find some leather to make a small coin purse she could hang from the belt Finan made her. 

“Before I forget-” Beocca stepped forward. “There is dinner tonight in the Main Hall. Uhtred wanted to make sure we were all there- including you, Lady. The Lady of Mercia is traveling to Winchester and stopping here on her journey-”

“Her husband is not joining her, is he?” Osferth asked. 

“That tiny runt of a man would never step foot in Coccham,” Finan said with a roll of his eyes.

“She is traveling alone,” Beocca confirmed.

There was something to his tone that felt curious to Lucia but she did not ask any further questions. Instead, she glanced down at her dress, feeling overwhelmed with the idea that she would meet someone of royalty looking as threadbare as she did. But her only other available option was that gold dress she still intended to barter with- and it was nearly two sizes too big as it was. 

“Come on, I’ll walk ya-” Finan said, snapping Lucia from her thoughts. “The rest of ya might want to dry up then before dinner-”

Sihtric shook his head, wet tendrils sending splashes of water in all directions. 

As Lucia walked into the square, she noticed the sky was darkening above them. But the ground was still dry and although she was still walking a bit slower than normal, it was not a long walk to the nunnery and she would be inside before the water hit the earth. She watched as Finan followed her outside, his hands resting on his belt as he stepped toward her.

“I am quite capable of crossing the village myself, you know.”

“I know.”

“Just looking to stretch your legs, then?” she asked.

“And in need of some good company,” he said with a hint of a smile.

The wind began to ramp up and loose strands from her braid began to whip around her face. Without hesitating, Finan reached out to brush a stray lock behind her ear. She chewed on her bottom lip as she looked up at him, and try as she might, she could not get a good read on the man. Although much of their journey to Coccham was filled with flirtatious remarks and teasing, she had been certain that it was just his natural demeanor and meant nothing.

But moments like these seemed softer and filled with an intent that was beginning to convince her it was more than she originally thought.

And there was a part of her that hoped for it.

“Are you set to sail somewhere?” she asked.

“Hm?” 

Finan seemed to be caught in his own reverie as he stood before her, her question snapping him out of some thought. He glanced up briefly at the sky, eyes squinting as a distant rumbling could be heard. He frowned before looking back to Lucia.

“You were fixing a sail?” she reminded him as they began to walk.

“Oh, aye- just upkeep-” he said with a wave of his hand. “We’ve been gone from Coccham for a bit now and there’s some work to do.”

“When we crossed paths, how long had you been traveling?” she asked. 

He seemed to ponder this, looking down at his fingers as he counted.

“Half a year or so,” he said, but he shrugged his shoulders. “Some of that was travelin’ but most of it was battle- we never intend to be gone for very long but somehow the fight always finds us- or, it finds Uhtred and well, where he goes, I go-”

“It must be hard to be gone for so long,” she said.

“Ya grow used to it,” Finan told her before glancing up at the sky again. “Harder for Sihtric and Uhtred, I reckon’ ‘cause they’ve got their families, but for me, it’s not so bad. Been gone a lot longer from Irland-”

She had to admit she had been wondering about this, wondering what an Irishman was doing all the way here in Wessex. But before she could even ask, the skies seemed to open up around them, heavy drops of rain hitting the dirt and grass at their feet. 

After a quick curse from Finan, and a bit of mingled laughter from them both, his arm was curving around her waist to guide Lucia to the stables just ahead of them. Thankfully it was only a few steps in the fresh mud until they reached the enclosure, Finan pulling open the stable doors and the two of them nearly stumbling inside. The horses welcomed them with neighing and whinnying as a crack of thunder exploded in the sky. 

Finan secured the doors as Lucia wiped the rain from her face. She was soaked, her dress feeling heavy as she moved. She could not help but laugh as she tried to wring some of the water from her braid. 

“This is one hell of a storm-” Finan said as he turned back from the stable doors. 

His tunic was darkened from the rain, the fabric clinging to his torso in ways that stopped the laughter in her throat, Lucia taking note of the tease of his chest thanks to the cut of his collar. But after what felt like too long a moment, she blinked, embarrassed by the way she let her gaze linger. It was not a trend that was becoming of her.

“Hopefully it will pass quickly,” she said, busying herself with the skirts of her dress, her hands working at the fabric to squeeze out the water, anything to avoid looking directly at him.

“Rain this hard usually does,” Finan replied. “But until then, we might as well stay put-”

She straightened with some effort, Lucia picking at the bodice of her dress as it clung to her body. She sighed, hoping she would dry in time to clean herself up before dinner. It was bad enough she was to meet the Lady of Mercia in a slave dress, it was another thing to meet her smelling like a wet barn animal. 

“I laughed at Beocca and now look at me-” she said, her hands gesturing down at herself.

“I’ve yet to look away, Lady,” he said.

Lucia expected to look up at Finan and see a wicked grin or a wink but when her eyes finally met his there was a softness behind them that threw her. She shook her head, coughing back nervous laughter. Why did she always laugh when she was nervous?

“You are too charming, Finan,” she warned. 

“Did ya mean for that to sound like an insult?” he asked, laughing.

He settled down in a patch of hay beside an open stall, arms resting on his knees as he leaned back against the stable wall. He looked up at her with a curious if not amused glance.

“You know you’re a flirt,” she said as she untied her braid, shaking out her damp hair. 

“I am just naturally good-natured,” Finan countered.

“When a pretty woman walks by.”

“Or when I am trapped in a stable with one-”

“I imagine this is not the first time you’ve been alone with a woman in here.”

Finan let out a low whistle before he chuckled. 

“You’re my first, Lady,” he grinned. 

Lucia opened her mouth to say something but thought the better of it. There was another crack of thunder and the horse nearest her began to whine. She moved toward the grey spotted stallion with a soft coo, bringing her hands to rub at his side, brushing gently against him as she soothed him. 

“Why do ya seem mad at me?” Finan asked after a beat. 

“I am not mad,” she told him in exasperation. “I just-”

But she did not know what she was. Her body and her brain were at fierce odds, her body desperately wanting to be closer to him and her brain chastising her for falling for his charms so easily. 

She had been wondering what it was she wanted lately, and more and more it all came back around to the Irishman sitting before her. Yes, he was a flirt- she had seen that first hand during their journey to Coccham and in the casual glances he received from the younger women in town. But there was a connection forming between them, wasn’t there? A softness she felt from him that made her long to be in his presence. 

“I do not want to feel like a notch in a bedpost,” she said finally.

“Is that what ya think of me?” he asked, brows raised, a hint of hurt in his tone.

She did not say anything for a moment. Instead, she crossed the stable to where he sat and sank down on the pile of hay beside him. She tucked her legs underneath her body as she shifted to face him. The raindrops felt like arrows as they hit the roof above them and her heartbeat seemed to mimic the beating patter of the rainfall.

“No, I think you are actually quite lovely,” she admitted, laughing in spite of herself.

“Lovely, eh?” Finan chuckled but she was certain of the red tinge creeping into his skin.

“But I hardly know you, nor anyone else here, really- I am trying to figure out what my life now looks like- and I do not want to betray the generosity of you all by being aloof but I’m overwhelmed-”

“Lucia-”

“I have just spent too much of my life under the thumb of someone cruel and now I am here,” she continued, hands wringing. “And everyone is so kind and you’ve been especially so and whenever I am around you, these nerves settle in and-”

“Will ya just hold on?” Finan asked, shaking his head. 

She paused, finally looking to the Irishman with a sheepish glance on her face. She had not meant to unload all of that onto him, had no intention of admitting just how confusing everything felt. But there was no going back now, was there?

“I’m sorry, I did not mean-”

“Yer right,” he said, looking at her intently. “It’s not been long since we found ya in the wood, and I’m sure there’s a lot to adjust to- and yet I’m incapable of not wantin’ to be around ya-”

Lucia tilted her head slightly, eyes studying the way Finan’s hand tapped against his knee in what seemed to be a nervous tick. All his typical bravado seemed to dull itself as he spoke, something quieter taking its place. 

“We’re not so different, ya know,” he said, dropping his gaze. “When I first met Uhtred, it was on a slave ship. We had nothin’ and we were nothin’ and for a long time I didn’t know if we’d survive it-”

Lucia had a vision of Uhtred and Finan behind the flickering flames of the camp’s fire, the shared look between them as she told the story of her past. She had wondered then what Uhtred meant and now she knew. And she hated it, the anger pooling in her belly as she realized just what they shared in common.

She reached out and clasped her hand over his, squeezing gently, if not to calm his rhythmic tapping.

“You do not have to continue,” she told him softly. 

His focus shifted to their hands for a moment before he finally looked back to Lucia, a soft, crooked sort of smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“It’s been near ten years since I’ve been in Irland,” he admitted. “Maybe more, the time I spent on that ship- it blurs. If ya can believe it, I was a prince and had a whole life planned for me, a preordained existence- but then I fell in love with someone I wasn’t supposed to and it all went to hell-”

“What happened?”

“She was not mine to love,” Finan said blithely. “And for that I was banished from my home and made to pay for that crime with endless days on a ruddy ship rowing to God knows where.”

“Do you ever think about her?” Lucia could not help but ask.

Finan squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before he swallowed and shook his head.

“Not anymore-” he sighed. “I’m where I’m supposed to be.”

“Trapped in a stable during a rainstorm?” she offered lightly.

“Aye,” Finan nodded his head and the smile that widened finally reached his eyes. “With a beautiful woman I want to get to know better-”

He slid his hand from her grasp and she watched as his calloused fingers grazed gently against her wrist, the light sensation sending a tingle throughout her skin, her hand flexing instinctively. The stable was silent save for the beating of the rain, and the catch of Lucia’s breath as Finan leaned closer toward her, his hand now cupping gently at the side of her face. His dark eyes searched hers, as if for permission, and she nodded her head. 

His thumb dragged softly against her bottom lip and she could not help but smile against his touch. When he finally kissed her, Lucia’s eyes fluttered shut and her lips parted in a sigh of pleasure. He laughed quietly against her mouth as his hand moved to tangle in her still wet hair, pulling her closer to him. She pressed her hand against his chest, fingers pulling at the damp fabric of his tunic, as she returned his kiss without any hesitation.

The way they fit together felt natural and good and perhaps this was a lesson for Lucia to not overthink every single little thing that entered into her brain. Maybe it was enough that Finan made her feel good and happy and that it was alright to want to be kissed. 

They parted after a long moment, Finan resting his forehead against hers as he caressed the side of her cheek. She chewed on her bottom lip as she pulled back from him just slightly, enough to catch his eyes.

“I should tell you one thing,” she said quietly.

“What’s that?” His brow furrowed as he watched her intently.

“I’d never been kissed,” Lucia admitted, feeling her skin grow hot as she spoke. “Before now-”

“Never?” Finan scoffed, disbelieving. “And ya let  _ me _ be the first?”

Lucia had been handled by Tredan in ways that she would never be able to forget, violently, without warning. Sometimes it was in the mornings while she was ordered to help him dress, often it was after Wilda went to sleep and Tredan was drunk on ale and wine. But in all those instances, Lucia was grateful he did not take this from her. 

“I am happy with my choice,” she told him, voice soft. 

Finan could sense something rumbling beneath the surface of Lucia’s words but he was kind enough to let it pass for the moment. Instead, he held her hand in his and kissed her palm.

“Then we ought to make up for lost time,” he said with a wicked grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends. This has been one of my favorite chapters to date. I WONDER WHY.


	10. i can’t keep living for the damage

“I was wondering where you were-”

Lucia had hoped that the rest of the nunnery would be otherwise occupied as she tried to quietly sneak in through the backdoor but was interrupted by the abbess coming in from the chapel. There was such a distinct look of amusement on Hild’s face that it brought a bit of heat to Lucia’s skin as she realized just how out of sorts she likely looked. She glanced down at her now rumpled and wrinkled dress before brushing her untamed curls back behind her ears. 

“I was caught in the storm.” She gestured to the outside needlessly, taking swift steps toward the back bedroom. “I waited out the rain in the stables-”

“Were you accompanied by a certain Irishman?”

Lucia stopped just before reaching the door and turned back to look at the abbess. There was a knowing glance on Hild’s face that did nothing to soften the tinge of self-consciousness lingering in her skin. She chewed on the inside of her cheek wondering if Hild saw her with him outside. He had insisted he walk her the rest of the way, as he had intended from the start before the storm interrupted them.

“How did you know?” she asked slowly, brow furrowing.

“Father Beocca was just here to extend an invitation to dinner,” Hild said as her smile widened. “He mentioned that you and Finan left his home near an hour ago-”

“We were interrupted by the rain,” Lucia said lamely.

“Yes, I can see that.”

A sound between a cough and a chuckle caught in Lucia’s throat before continuing on with her strides into the bedroom, praying silently that the door would lead to somewhere else entirely so that she could avoid the rest of the conversation. “I’m just going to change and freshen up before supper-”

“Sister Edweena mended the sleeve of your other dress,” Hild said as she followed her toward the back bedroom, her smile not waning. “Perhaps you can wear that.”

Lucia made a small sign of the cross as she breathed a sigh of relief. She pulled open the doors to the dark wooden wardrobe to find the deep green dress hanging among the plain gray robes the rest of the sisters wore. It would certainly do.

“She is a saint,” Lucia said, pulling it from its hanger. “I am confused enough to be included in tonight’s dinner, I did not want to meet the Lady of Mercia looking a bit like a wild animal-”

“I will fetch you a brush.” But as Hild moved toward a small dressing table she stopped to consider Lucia for a moment. “Though, they are quite beautiful, your curls. You could forgo braiding it tonight.”

“They are like a lion’s mane if I do not tame them,” she laughed as she shimmied out of her dress, careful not to loosen her bandages. “I could not-”

“Let me help.” Though Hild’s words felt more like a command than suggestion. “I am rather good at it- I used to help Uhtred with his braids for years.”

Lucia let that image sink in, a befuddled smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

But once she was properly dressed, she was instructed by Hild to sit on the edge of her bed. The abbess hovered over her with quiet focus, brushing lightly through her thick waves and curls, twisting strands here and there. It reminded her a bit of when she was young and her mother would try to brush the knots out of her hair after a day of play outside. 

When Hild was finally satisfied, she let Lucia study her handiwork. There were no vanities anywhere in the nunnery but Hild did have a beautiful hand mirror from her mother that she let Lucia use. 

She could feel the intricate knot Hild tied at the back of her head with her free hand, the rest of her curls flowing freely underneath. She had not seen herself look this polished in a long time and all Lucia could think about was Finan and if he’d notice. A flush crept into her cheeks and she laughed, that nervous tick at it again.

“This is beautiful,” Lucia said as she handed back the mirror. “You really are quite good.”

“I do have my hidden talents,” Hild said simply before she plopped herself down on her own bed, resting her body against her pillow. “It is a small blessing we have this dinner- Sister Tate is in charge of supper tonight and Lord, forgive me, but her skills leave much to be desired-”

“What was it we had the last time?” Lucia asked, voice quiet. “It has been days and I am still thinking about it-”

_And not fondly._

“I do not know,” Hild said with a small shake of her head. “I have never seen stew to look quite like that.”

“Or taste like that-”

“And the way it stuck to the bowl-”

Lucia sucked in a breath.

“Hild- Finan and I kissed.”

That had not been what she had planned on saying but the words just sort of spilled out of her. She averted her gaze to her muddy boots sitting in the corner of the bedroom. Although she felt that Hild was becoming a good friend, she knew that the abbess had a loyalty to the men, most especially Uhtred. But she still felt that airy feeling floating through her from Finan’s kiss and could not contain the myriad of thoughts clouding her brain.

She cleared her throat. 

“I should have kept that to myself-”

“You lasted longer than I thought,” Hild replied before pressing her lips together in an effort to suppress a smile. “It has been all over your face since the moment you returned-”

“Oh, no-” Lucia groaned, covering her face with her hands. “I betray myself constantly-”

“Was it just a kiss?” the abbess questioned with a raise of her brows.

“It was!” Lucia replied, scandalized. “Well, kiss _es_ -”

“I did ask, but I do not need the details,” Hild said with a wave of her hands. 

“Sorry-” she grimaced. “I have never had a friend in which to share these moments- though this is really the first moment of its kind.”

Hild’s expression softened as she considered Lucia. “Do you care for him?”

Lucia fidgeted in her spot, fingers picking at the threads in the blanket on her bed. She had been battling with her feelings for days now. She had told herself not to overthink, to just focus on the feeling Finan brought out in her- but she could not deny the affection she felt for the Irishman. Especially now, after the stables, after the gentle way he touched her and spilled his truth.

“I fear I do,” Lucia replied. 

“What is there to fear about that?” Hild asked.

“Everything,” she said, exasperated. “I’ve never felt like this before about anyone- and up until recently, I was just a thing to be used by a terrible man and nothing more-”

Hild pressed her lips together as she shifted to a sitting position, her knees not far from Lucia’s as the two women sat opposite each other. She reached out to calm Lucia’s restless hand, still pulling at loose threads. The abbess offered her a soft smile, a sort of knowing settling behind her eyes. 

“You can live a different life here in Coccham,” Hild said. “Make your own choices. And you are free to explore them- whatever they may be. Spending time with someone who is clearly very fond of you is not the worst way to begin that life.”

Lucia let out a shake of laughter as she bowed her head, her hand squeezing at Hild’s, grateful for the calm the abbess could bring her. 

“Do you think he is? That he’s fond of me? I know he has a reputation-”

“All men do in one way or another,” Hild replied with a shrug. “But Finan is a good man, and I have seen the way he worries after you, from your first arrival here in Coccham-”

Lucia thought back to that night with a furrow of her brow. She had appreciated his presence while Mathilda was tending to her wounds, and was touched when he and Osferth decided to spend time with her instead of rushing back to the feast in the Main Hall. Perhaps it had always been something more.

She looked to Hild and smiled, feeling a giddiness when she remembered the way Finan described their meeting to the nun when they thought she was asleep in the back bedroom. 

“There is a reason you hold his saex in your belt,” she continued.

Lucia laughed brightly, her cheeks flushing pink.

“Hild, I am grateful for you,” she said suddenly. “You have been a kind friend and I am happy that we have been able to meet. I do not know what I would have done without you all this time.”

The abbess looked momentarily thrown by Lucia’s words but soon a smile spread across her face.

“You are, as always, too grateful,” she mused with a tinge of laughter. “But it has been good to find a friendship with you- we needed more women around-”

\--

The streets of Coccham had grown dark with the setting of the sun and the earth still felt soft underneath her feet as Lucia approached the Main Hall. The lanterns shone brightly, illuminating the light mist lingering in the air from the storm earlier. She hesitated as she reached the front door, still unsure of this evening and her invitation to join them for dinner. What on Earth could she possibly bring to any conversation with the Lady of Mercia? 

“You have to go inside,” Hild prodded gently from her spot behind her, seemingly prevented from doing so herself due to Lucia’s inability to move her feet. 

She looked back to the abbess with a sheepish smile, “I know. But why don’t you go first?”

“Why don’t we go in together?” Hild said as she offered her arm.

There was a warmth radiating from within the Main Hall as they entered, both the chandeliers and the wall sconces flickering with a soft glow. The scents of dinner wafted in from the kitchen and her stomach rumbled as she thought of the meal to come- all that talk of Sister Tate’s porridge had her excited to eat something a bit more substantial. 

The door closed behind them with a soft bang and those already inside turned to look and greet the new arrivals. As she felt certain eyes fall to her she was grateful to have Hild close. She did not know why she was so nervous- she had escaped from a Danish raid for Heaven’s sake, she could sit through one dinner. 

“Thank goodness you are both here-” 

A tall woman, in spite of how pregnant she was, crossed the room to meet them with a swiftness. It was Ealhswith, Sihtric’s wife. Lucia had only met her twice before, mostly in passing, but she had found her friendly and kind in both instances. 

“I was worried I would be surrounded by these men all night,” she continued with a sigh, her hand curving underneath her belly.

Ealhswith’s eyes darted back to where her husband stood in what seemed to be a lively conversation with Finan and Osferth. Lucia could not help but follow her glance and there was a flutter in her chest when she realized that Finan’s gaze was already upon her. She offered him a smile before averting her eyes back to the women standing before her. 

“They are fine until the ale gets into them and then I can hardly understand what they’re saying-”

Lucia and Hild exchanged brief but besmused glances.

“Has Lady Aethleflaed not yet arrived?” Hild questioned.

“No,” Ealhswith replied dejectedly. “Sihtric made mention she should be here soon, one of her guard rode ahead to alert Lord Uhtred-”

“Aye, he’s feedin’ his horse in the stables-”

Lucia looked over to find Finan approaching them, and she felt her skin warm at his stare. Must she be so stupidly entranced by him whenever he came near her? 

“Ladies-” he said in greeting, offering the abbess a brief smirk.

“Finan,” Hild replied with much the same gesture. 

“Might I steal Lucia for a moment?” he asked.

“If you ask her nicely, you might have her willingly,” Hild mused.

Lucia’s eyes widened in surprise as she shot a glance at the abbess. Hild only smiled in reply before murmuring something to Ealhswith, leading her toward another side of the room. Lucia stood there, lips pressed together as her fingers flexed in a mixture of embarrassment and amusement. 

“So, the abbess knows,” Finan said after a beat, his hand reaching up to rub at the nape of his neck with a breath of laughter.

“I could not lie to a woman of God,” she told him with wide eyes.

“I worried ya might want to keep it a secret-”

She did not expect the uncertainty in his voice. He seemed nervous, if that was at all possible for Finan the Agile, a nickname she heard Sihtric shout at him once. It suited him. It suited everything about him- his fighting style, his charm, his humor- but it did not suit this apprehension she could see lingering in him. 

Without thinking she reached for his hand. It was a risky move, with everyone there around them, but she could not deny the urge to touch him, especially now. He seemed surprised by it but he gripped her hand back tightly.

“I do not,” she said softly.

“Say that again?” he asked, a smile tugging at his lips. 

“You did not mishear me,” she said with a playful glance.

“I might’ve,” he said, tilting his head closer toward her. “You’re very distractin’ tonight-”

Lucia narrowed her eyes at him, “Finan-”

“I can’t take my eyes off ya,” he told her, his thumb caressing at her palm.

The lightness of his touch sent a sensation through her that sent a shiver down her spine and she averted her gaze for fear of thinking fairly inappropriate thoughts before dinner. She had enough on her mind as it was. She laughed, shaking her head. 

“You must if we are to get through dinner,” Lucia said.

“By all means, do not let dinner prevent you-”

It was Uhtred.

There was a sharpness to his voice that caused Lucia to stiffen where she stood. She had not seen him in a day, the last visit they had to confirm when her tutoring would begin. He had been eager and excited for his children’s education to start and generous in his time with her, allowing her to ask more than a few questions about his Gods so she could take notes.

She dropped Finan’s hand and spared the Irishman a timid glance before she looked to Uhtred.

“Hello, Lord,” she greeted finally, her voice soft. 

“It seems I have not been paying much attention,” Uhtred said as his eyes stared where hands were once held. “To not have seen how close you two have become, and right under my nose-”

“Erm, Lord-” Finan said with a befuddled glance. “We’ve only-”

But before Finan could finish speaking, the large doors banged open one again, two men in chainmail entering followed by a woman dressed in a traveling cloak. A man followed closely behind her, and Lucia could only assume that the Lady of Mercia had arrived. 

\--

Lady Aethleflaed looked like a warrior as she sat at the head of the table, Uhtred to her left and her man Aldhlem to her right. She was dressed in dark leather armor and riding pants, her hair tied back in various braids. She did not look like a daughter of a king, but like the head of an army. She had an easy way about her, laughing and joking with the men around her. It was clear that there was a relationship between them that Lucia did not expect. She was almost two weeks in Coccham and she was still learning so much about the men that rescued her. When Lady Aethleflaed teased Sihtric about a particular moment of bravery on the battlefield, Lucia could not help but wonder about the histories she was missing among them. 

But as she watched them share tales, she could only focus on Uhtred and the pained expression on his face from earlier, and the uneasiness she felt at the tone of his voice.

It had been near an hour since he had made direct eye contact with her, not since the Lady of Mercia arrived and he stalked away from where Finan and Lucia stood. The Irishman had been rather confused by the interaction but Lucia did not know how to explain something that was unclear to her, too. Uhtred had flirted, yes, but he had never acted with any intent- and Lucia had been so swept up in Finan that she had not considered this would be the way he’d respond until it was too late.

It was a fine mixture of frustration and guilt that lingered in her to see him act a bit like a moody child. But it was not something she noticed alone. She watched as Lady Aethleflaed took a swig from her mug and cleared her throat.

“Lord Uhtred, you mentioned something about the safety of our borders?” she asked, her hand resting on his forearm.

Her touch seemed to calm him in a way Lucia did not expect, her eyes taking careful notice of the way Uhtred’s expression softened, his posture straightened. He looked to Lady Aethelflaed with a nod. 

“We heard rumors of Danes taking advantage of the peace treaty,” he said as he shifted back into his seat. “And it seems to be so-”

“Here in Wessex?” Lady Aethlelaed shook her head. “What do you know?”

Lucia looked down at her plate, fidgeting slightly in her seat as she thought back to that morning and the weird twisted feeling still lingering in the pit of her stomach when she thought about her passage to freedom and how it came to be.

“The village of Elentone is all but gone,” Uhtred said. “Those that survived were to be taken on as slaves-” 

“A slave trade?” she questioned, her voice catching just slightly.

“Could be,” Sihtric said. “To be sold in Wealas or Irland-”

“By the grace of God we were able to find them before it was too late and now they are rebuilding. But the damage was severe-” Beocca continued. 

“The people of Wessex are resilient,” she said with a terse smile. “How many are left?”

“Two dozen, maybe-” Osferth offered.

“Mostly women and children,” Finan said though his eyes were focused on Lucia. 

“They all returned, save for one,” Uhtred continued and he too was looking at Lucia.

It felt like a special kind of hell that the two men were seated next to each other, opposite Lucia at the table. She did not know who to look to and instead just kept her head down.

“Yes, Lucia decided to travel with us to Coccham,” Beocca explained.

Most eyes at the table drifted toward her and she swallowed before offering a meek smile, not sure that was even the proper response to the attention. She would have preferred to sink in her seat and slide down into the floor so that she could escape. 

Lady Aethleflaed leaned forward, elbows resting on the table as she let her eyes travel over Lucia. She did not like the way that look felt, the sort of curiosity that flashed behind the Lady of Mercia’s eyes.

“Why did you not want to return to your home?” she inquired. “To help rebuild?”

“Elentone was not my home, Lady,” Lucia replied. “There was nothing there for me-”

“I do not understand,” Lady Aethleflaed said with a furrowed brow.

“I am not from Wessex-” she said carefully. “I was brought here when I was young.”

“Oh? Where are you from?” Aldhelm asked innocently, turning in his seat to better face her. 

“Lombardei,” she said, her hands wringing. “But that is not pleasant dinner conversation.”

“Neither is talk of a slave trade,” Lady Aethleflaed countered stiffly.

“Lady, my journey to Elentone was no different.”

There was a flicker of something across Uhtred’s face as she spoke and the scowl he had reserved for her seemed to soften. But she felt her chest tighten, feeling overwhelmed even by the few questions the Lady of Mercia asked. Would she never be able to think of these things without growing anxious? Was it always going to have a hold on her? 

Lady Aethleflaed seemed to want to say something but a look of realization washed over her. She became smaller in her seat as she leaned back and she nodded her head. 

“Does my brother know?” Lady Aethleflaed asked instead, turning her attention away from Lucia. “Is he aware?”

“He’s been alerted by letter,” Uhtred said with a roll of his eyes. “But nothing back-”

“I will speak to him when I arrive in Winchester,” she replied. “This must be addressed.”

The conversation drifted to concern of King Edward and the strength of the treaty but Lucia had begun to drown out the voices. She had been certain that she was beginning to accept her new life, to finally enjoy the freedom she had been granted after so many years of being abused and berated- but she still felt angry.

She worried she always would. 

She ran her finger across the rim of her mug, the simple action easy to focus on. But she could feel the eyes of a certain Irishman on her. Lucia worried that if she met his gaze she would begin to cry, this evening such a bizarre onslaught of emotion. When she did look up, she saw the worry behind his eyes and the light drumming of his fingers against the table top, that same anxious tick she noticed in the stables. 

He tilted his head and looked at her in concern seemingly waiting for some kind of sign that she was alright. She was not, but she was not in a position to reveal that, however obvious it might already be without her confirmation. Instead, she gave him a small, half smile. 

She was not ready to talk about it. Not even with Finan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cat's outta the bag now, friends!! And yes, there's going to be a bit of a struggle as Lucia comes to grips with her past AND her present. Thank you for your incredible feedback so far and for keeping up with this story with me. I have another chapter queued up for next week! ❤️


	11. i heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too

“Why don’t you come to the alehouse?”

The question was innocent enough, Hild sparing her a smile as the two rose from the dining table. The rest of the group had begun to disperse, some heading for a drink, while others were seeking bed after a long day of travel. But Lucia shook her head, finally seeing her opportunity to flee back to the nunnery.

“I am starting to feel a bit of an ache,” she admitted. “I think I need rest more than I need ale-”

It was not a lie, really- her body did ache, though the pain was not coming from any broken bone. It was a tight feeling in the center of her chest and this shakiness that seemed to radiate from under her skin. 

Hild nodded as she reached to give Lucia’s arm a soft squeeze. 

“Of course. I will see you in the morning.”

The abbess turned away just as Finan came toward them. Hild stopped to rest her hand on his shoulder and the two briefly exchanged words, his brow furrowing as he settled his eyes on Lucia. She fidgeted under his stare, her fingers picking at her palm as she watched them. 

He stopped just short of the chair standing between them, his hand lingering on the back of it, tilting it forward. She had been avoiding his eyes for the last half of dinner, waiting for the meal to end so she could plot her escape. Anything to avoid continuing the myriad of difficult conversations that seemed to await her. 

“I’d say ya handled that well,” he offered.

Lucia let out a dry laugh, “I think you are being kind.”

“No, just right-” he said with a boyish smile. “Will ya join us for a pint?”

“I want to say yes,” she told him. “But I am not good company at the moment-”

“Understood,” he said with a nod of his head. “I oughta have a wee chat with Uhtred, myself.”

She took a step toward him, her hand reaching to smooth at a wrinkle in his tunic. She did not want to imagine what that conversation might look like but she appreciated that Finan didn’t seem to shy away from the difficult things. And truthfully, she worried that the moment they stepped into the brisk night air, she would become a mess. 

“Can I see you tomorrow?” she asked, meeting his eyes. “After my lesson with the children?”

“Aye, of course,” he replied, his hand reaching to grasp at hers as it lingered against his chest.

She gave him a small kiss on the cheek before she stepped past him and toward the large double doors. Uhtred made an attempt to catch her attention from where he stood but she barreled right by him, too unsure of what she would say and strangely finding herself angry with him. 

The walk back was quiet if not a little damp, the humidity sticking to Lucia’s skin as she followed the path back to the nunnery. The rest of the sisters were sleeping as she tiptoed inside and she was grateful for it. But instead of climbing into bed, her eyes lingered on the door leading into the chapel. It had been some days since she had shared prayer with the sisters and found herself compelled to sit inside. 

It was a simple church, a small altar at the head with a cross near as tall as Lucia standing in the center. The light flickered as she entered, only two candles still lit from evening prayer. It was quiet, a soothing kind of silence. 

Lucia wrapped her arms around her body as she wandered down the center aisle. She settled on the second row, sliding down to sit near the middle. She bowed her head for a moment before she sucked in a breath. 

“ _In nómine Patris et Fílii et Spíritus Sancti_ ,” she whispered as she made the sign of the cross, her hand shaking slightly. “ _Amen_.”

But her brain would not rest as she sat there willing herself to pray. It was moving too quickly, parsing through the events of the night and of the last thirteen years in one fell swoop.

_“Do not touch her-” her father yelled, voice desperate. “Please- let her go-”_

Lady Aethleflaed had seemed so upset by the thought of a slave trade finding its way through Wessex and Mercia but hadn’t one brought Lucia here? A dingy metal cage, hardly big enough to fit all the children they piled inside, traveling across waters in order to find the highest bidders. She would never forget the cries and whines from the children around her, from her own mouth, even, as she struggled to accept that she would never step foot in her homeland ever again. 

Hot tears welled in her eyes and she blinked them back, her heart thudding in her chest as she thought of the slaver, Kazimir, and the demand he made for her belongings, right down to the very dress she wore in order to trade for silver. She spent the boat trip to Wessex in nothing more than her smock, barefoot, a permanent chill settling into her bones by the time they arrived on land. 

_“Aren’t you a pretty little thing,” Lord Tredan said as he hooked a finger under her chin._

“I’m sorry, I did not think anyone else would be here-”

The initial sound startled Lucia but she quickly calmed when she recognized Father Beocca’s voice. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand as she twisted in her seat to find him standing there with his hands clasped in front of his chest.

“I am happy to come back if you need privacy,” he continued.

“No, no-” she said as she shook her head, sniffling slightly, shifting to make room for him. “Please, come sit. I was just feeling sorry for myself but I am determined to put an end to that.”

He chuckled as he sat on the bench beside her, “A strength few can master, including myself.”

“Did you not want to join them in the alehouse?” she asked.

“Not tonight,” Beocca said with a small shake of his head. “I was seeking some solace, and it seems I am not alone in that. Are you alright?”

She sighed as her fingers needled at the palm of her hand. 

“Do you ever think you have moved on and then one single moment can drag you right into the darkness?” she asked. “It all just feels inescapable.”

“I find that feeling is universal,” Beocca said, nodding his head. “Often, there are moments beyond our understanding or control, situations that can alter everything about how we view the world around us. But it is your right to take back that control when you can- say, the choice to fight for a village that saw you as nothing but a slave, or deciding to leave the home you shared with your wife to find a new home somewhere else-”

Lucia did not say anything for a moment, but her hand reached for Beocca’s as it rested in his lap. He was surprised by the gesture but there was a kindness behind his eyes when he looked at her, a knowing look flickering across his weathered face. She offered him a soft smile.

“I come here sometimes to visit with her,” he said after a moment of quiet. “Our home in Winchester was unlivable after losing her and the church here has always been the place where I can feel her presence.”

“I am so sorry for your loss,” she told him.

“I am, too,” Beocca said softly. “Thyra was a gift in my life that I fear I did not deserve-”

“That is untrue,” she said, shaking her head. “I have only known you a short while but there is nothing that tells me that you were not a gift to her as well.”

\--

Uhtred did not appear in the Main Hall until Lucia was near the end of her lesson, both children prudently working on their respective objectives. 

Stiorra was copying letters of the alphabet while Young Uhtred was reading a passage in a book that Mathilda graciously let Lucia borrow. It was not like a text she had ever seen before, with mostly hand-written passages of old campfire stories- but they were quite captivating and talked at length of Thor and Odin and many other gods that Lucia was becoming familiar with.

Young Uhtred had been more than pleased to practice his reading when he saw the stories. His assignment was to copy any words or sentences he did not understand and they would go through the grammar or story together. 

She had been nervous that the children would rather run and play but they seemed curious about their new teacher and it had been a pleasant morning.

Lucia was standing behind Stiorra, watching as the young girl copied her final letter with a small and shaky hand when Uhtred came from the outside. The sunlight spilled into the room with him and Stiorra looked up excitedly.

“Papa, come and see, come and see!” She waved her pen at him. “Look at what I did-”

Scattered in front of her were multiple pieces of parchment with various attempts, some neater than others, but still very much a feat for the five year old, who was currently holding up her final attempt with a toothy smile.

“That _is_ something,” Uhtred exclaimed as he came to Stiorra’s other side and glanced down at the sheet. But after a moment, he looked to Lucia with a perplexed expression. “What am I looking at?”

“Lord, your daughter is well on her way to mastering her alphabet,” Lucia said.

“So you are already smarter than your father,” he said with a smile, crouching down to Stiorra’s level. 

“Lucia says I can practice my name tomorrow,” Stiorra replied. 

“Are you already finished?” he asked before glancing up to Lucia. “Have I been out that long?”

“It has been a few hours,” she nodded. “I did not want to tax them too long on their first day, so they are free to run and play now-”

“Will I get to read more tomorrow?” Young Uhtred asked.

“Of course,” she said with a soft smile. “Perhaps you might even read to us, if you’d like-”

Young Uhtred shifted in his seat as he considered this, carefully marking where he left off with the parchment he had been working on and shutting the book. 

“I can do that,” he nodded and then he looked to his father. “Papa, can we play with Tore?”

“Go on,” Uhtred replied. “But stay away from the barns- no one will save you from the pig pen a third time, do you understand?”

The young boy nodded his head but as Lucia watched the children run off, she noticed Young Uhtred and Stiorra whispering to each other conspiratorially before pulling open the doors and dashing out into the afternoon sun. 

“Did they behave?” Uhtred asked, his eyes watching after them as well. 

“They were wonderful,” she replied and she meant it. “They are good children.”

“ _That_ they get from their mother,” he said, eyes shifting back down to the sheet of parchment with the complete alphabet. He picked it up, eyes studying it briefly before he put it back down and turned to Lucia. “My youngest, Osbert, he is still too young to be like either of us yet I fear he will take after me-”

“You say that as if it would be a bad thing,” she asked. 

He chuckled, “You would have to ask Beocca.”

She smiled as she thought of her time with the priest in the chapel the night before, the kindness and graciousness he showed her. Though she could only imagine Uhtred as a young boy, wild and free and quite the handful.

She moved to the other end of the table, focusing on tidying up the school supplies, stacking the parchments in respective piles and avoiding his eyes. 

She was unsure of herself now that they were alone. She had been confused and angry when she left the night before, not clear on what she did to deserve the cold shoulder she received from him. However, when she woke in the morning, she felt tired and embarrassed. Uhtred had only been kind to her, and maybe there had been something there between them briefly, a tension she did not expect. He was the one to save her life, to make the decision to pause his journey home to avenge a village he had no ties to. She would always feel indebted to him. But as her feelings for Finan grew, Uhtred had seemed more like a very good friend, albeit a very handsome one who had a habit of making her blush. Still, she only hoped there was still a friendship to salvage.

“Did you enjoy dinner last night?” he asked, his tone so casual she almost laughed. 

“It was- illuminating,” she said after a moment.

“You were not in your usual spirits, I noticed.”

“Was I not?” she asked, her hip resting against the table as she turned to face him. Lucia propped herself up with the flat of her hand as she studied him. “I can’t imagine why.”

“I see that has carried over to this morning-”

“Perhaps you could ask me why,” she offered dryly. 

“This sounds like a trick,” he said, eyes narrowing. “You seem angry with me.”

“Isn’t it funny how such feelings can spring up?” she said with animated hands. “How one minute you can be friendly and then it is scowls and cold shoulders over dinner while you are being interrogated by the Lady of Mercia?”

“Lucia- I can explain-”

“Yes,” she said. “You should.”

“So, you _are_ upset,” he said, shifting awkwardly in his spot. 

“Yes!” She sighed, “No. I-I don’t know. You would not even look me in the eye most of the night, and I am not sure what I can do to fix that.”

Uhtred’s head nodded for a moment as if he agreed with her. He leaned his forearms against the back of the chair, his hands clasping together. He did not say anything for a moment, and it seemed to be his turn to avoid her gaze.

“I care for you, Lucia,” he said quietly. “But I am not the only one it seems.”

“Oh, Uhtred-” 

“I have been distracted,” he admitted. “With what I do not wish to be in Dane relations and talks of battle after we have already finished a war- You have been a welcome presence in an otherwise stressful time.”

She chewed on her bottom lip as she watched him straighten his back, standing tall once again. He considered her carefully and she matched his gaze. She could sense the weight in him, knowing she would never be able to handle the responsibilities he must feel. She offered him a small, half smile as she cocked her head. 

“I would still like to be a welcome presence,” she said hesitantly. “Perhaps in a different way?”

“Do you love him?”

The question caught her off guard. She ran her fingers against her lips, thinking of the Irishman and the moments they had shared, the secrets he had told her of his past, the way he watched after her with every wince of her breath. 

“I could,” she said softly, surprising herself. “I might, even. But it is so new-”

The flicker of pain was so quick across his face that if Lucia had not been watching so intently she would have missed it. She felt foolish not to have seen this part of him earlier. Had he talked to Finan? Had she come between two men who owed each other their lives? She would not forgive herself if a kiss in the stables made things difficult between them.

“He is my brother,” Uhtred said after a long moment. “We are bonded- and he has been without a truly good woman for as long as I have known him. I will not stand in the way, whatever this may be for you both.”

Lucia let out a breath she did not know she was holding, a strangled laugh catching in her throat. “You are a wonder,” she said. 

“I was fortunate to have my wife Gisela, even if our time was cut short-” Uhtred’s brow wrinkled as he looked away from Lucia. “Why deny another man that?”

“I am sorry I caused you any pain.”

He shook his head as he pushed himself upright.

“There is nothing to apologize for,” he told her and it was as if the conversation needed nothing more said between them. Then, “I have talked to Lady Aethleflaed, I explained to her how we came to know you- She understands now.”

Lucia waved her hand, “She is worried about her people, I should not have let it upset me-”

But it did. And a part of her was still coming to terms with that. 

“She is worried,” Uhtred said with concern. “Her brother is a boy king who makes rash decisions and her husband is… driven only by his own reputation and nothing more. Mercia needs her now more than ever and she is a good woman, I can swear that-”

“You care for her,” Lucia said with sudden realization, hoping she was not speaking out of turn. 

Uhtred looked at her with mild surprise.

“And I think she feels the same,” she continued. 

His head shook with quiet laughter as he considered her words. She watched him carefully, knowing somehow that she was not wrong. Whatever he may have felt for her, there was something there between him and the Lady of Mercia - she noticed it in the looks they shared, the ease in which they touched each other. 

Hild had explained during their walk to dinner the night before that Lord Aethlered was as puny a man as Finan described, in both ego and leadership. She did not have to spell it out for Lucia to also understand how cruel he was, the words Hild used so carefully chosen. She felt a pang of empathy for Lady Aethleflaed and a kinship in their suffrage.

“ _That_ is complicated,” he said with a wave of his hands. 

“I am learning that these things seem to be that way,” she replied sheepishly. 

“You are a perceptive one,” he said with a smile. “I am glad we will be friends, I will need that-”

Feeling as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, Lucia stepped toward him and hugged him, eyes squeezing shut. His arms wrapped gingerly around her lower back and he laughed, his voice in her ear saying, “Mathilda will kill me if I hug you too tightly-”

“So, you’ve made yer choice then-” 

Lucia opened her eyes to see Finan standing there before them, the door still swinging shut behind him. She had been laughing with Uhtred and did not hear him come into the Main Hall. She had told Finan to meet her after her lesson and here he was, right on time. She pulled back from Uhtred, and they both turned to face him.

She could not understand the look in his eyes, the dejection lingering in them.

“What do you mean?” she asked, baffled. “What choice?”

“Finan-” Uhtred started.

“Between us,” Finan interrupted, gesturing between Uhtred and himself. “When we talked last night, we knew that you were not someone to be decidin’ anythin’ for, so this, well ‘tis a fine decision, Lady, really-”

“ _Finan_ -” Lucia sucked in a breath. “Why don’t we go for a walk?”

He cocked his head to the side as he looked at her. After a moment, his eyes shifted to his Lord who stood there likely wishing he were anywhere else. Uhtred merely threw his hands up and shook his head. 

“Go on,” he told them both, gesturing for them to leave. “You have much to discuss-”

Lucia shot him a narrowed glance.

“Exactly what’ve we got to discuss?” Finan asked as Lucia grabbed his arm. 

She did not say a word until they were across the Main Hall, through the double doors and outside into the bright midday sun. When they reached the dirt path she stopped, and Finan looked down at her mildly impressed as she dropped her hold on his arm. 

“That’s quite a grip,” he commented, flexing his elbow.

“I did not _choose_ Uhtred,” she said, her heart beginning to move as if it was in double-time. 

“Whatdya mean ya did not choose Lord Uhtred?” he asked, bewildered. “Uhtred is the best man I’ve ever met- he’s a brave and fearless leader, he’s-”

“Yes, you do sound quite smitten with him,” Lucia said with a smirk.

“Lucia-” 

But the Irishman did not get a chance to continue speaking as Lucia reached up on her toes and kissed him. It was a gentle kiss, her hands pressing against his chest to steady herself. The touch of her lips against his was enough to quiet him momentarily but as she pulled back he was speaking again.

“Hold on, do ya mean that ya chose me?” 

The realization flashed across his face, traces of pink flushing into his skin. He reached for her, his one hand curving around her waist as he tilted her chin up with the other. There was such a softness in the way he looked at her, his eyes searching for her confirmation.

“I don’t like this talk of choice,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “This feeling I have for you has been foisted upon me, I did not ask- and frankly, it is very taxing to care for someone and wonder about them when they’re not around and-”

But Lucia was prevented from continuing by the sudden feel of Finan’s lips against her own, his body pressing against hers as he grazed the side of her face with his hand, tangling his fingers in her hair. She sank into his embrace, her mouth parting just slightly as he deepened his kiss.

“We both talk too much,” Finan said after a moment, his forehead pressing against hers lightly.

“You’re right, I can think of much better things to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just the beginning of their story folks! Thank you for reading and continuing on with me and all your incredible feedback, it means so much!


	12. secret heart, what are you made of

“Are you sure you wish to trade?”

The fabric merchant was an intimidating woman, tall and fine with a perfectly pinned chignon at the nape of her neck and a beautiful embroidered design to her dress that no doubt took hours of work. She was fixated on the gold brocade dress Lucia had brought, studying it with a careful eye.

“More than willing,” Lucia said, hoping it would fetch her a few bolts of fabric in something more wearable. “It is very lovely but not particularly my style.”

“Yes, that is clear,” the merchant replied, hardly raising her eyes from the garment. 

Lucia knocked her knees against her woven basket, eyes briefly glancing down to the battered dusty blue dress she currently wore as she considered the woman’s words. She was not wrong. A bit brusque but not incorrect. 

“I’ve a linen that would do well for you in this heat,” the woman said, suddenly pushing herself from her counter to rifle through the bolts of fabric behind her. “Still needs dying but will get quite a few pieces for a little thing like you- oh, and a fine bit of wool, I swear it is the softest in all of Wessex.”

“That is perfect,” Lucia replied, knowing that two bolts will be more than enough for what she had in mind. “Do you happen to have a scrap piece of leather? I can pay for that separately if it does not fit the trade-”

The merchant considered her before turning back to a little trunk just behind the market stall. She crouched down to rummage through, Lucia seeing bits and pieces of leftover fabric and pretty colored ribbon. She returned to the counter with a piece of leather a little rough around the edges. 

“No charge,” she said, as she pushed it toward Lucia. 

“Really?” Lucia asked, surprised. “Are you sure?”

“Couldn’t do a thing with it anyway,” she replied with a shrug. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No, this will do for now,” Lucia said, smiling as she placed it in her basket. “Thank you.”

“Looks like I’m right on time-”

The fabric merchant was piling the two heavy bolts of fabric on the counter while Lucia was briefly wondering how she was going to carry them back to the nunnery when Finan strolled up behind her. His arms curved around her waist from behind, clasping gently against her stomach as he kissed her cheek. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment as she leaned back against his embrace.

So much had changed in such a short amount of time.

She should have known better than to think that kissing Finan in the middle of the day damn near out in the middle of the whole village would not raise a few eyebrows. Still, she was amazed at how quickly the news spread to the other men. And Hild. Even Mathilda, who had plenty to say about what physical activities were unavailable to her while she was still recovering, much to her chagrin.

It had been a day over two weeks since she fled Elentone and her life had grown beyond what she could have ever expected. As Finan began to nuzzle playfully against her neck, she wondered how she had managed to stumble upon so much good fortune before letting out a bright laugh, his beard tickling her skin.

“I thought you were supposed to be patching a roof this morning.”

“We made quick work of it-”

“Let us hope another storm does not roll in and test your handiwork,” she teased.

“Let’s hope I’m nowhere to be found if it does,” he mused before he nodded his head to the merchant in greeting. 

She did not seem entirely thrilled by the display of affection before her and only nodded her head toward the fabric, clearly hoping to be available for any other customer who might walk by. Finan gave Lucia another kiss on the cheek before breaking from her to scoop up the bolts in his arms, leaving the woman with a rather playful wink.

“Finan, you don’t need to carry those-” 

“Oh? How did ya intend on handlin’ this then?” he asked.

“Um, well-” She pursed her lips as she considered this. “Slowly? And with great effort?”

“That’s what I thought,” he said. “Come on-”

They began to walk, making sure to dodge playing children as they raced through the market. Lucia shifted her grip on the basket, glancing down at the few groceries she was tasked with purchasing for the nunnery, her turn to help manage supplies. She did not want to admit that even the small amount of things she was carrying made her sides hurt from the weight of it. 

“Mathilda is comin’ by today, isn’t she?” he asked.

“Yes, while the sisters are in evening prayer,” she replied. “She seems pleased with my progress but I fear I am just too impatient.”

“Look, I know it’s frustratin’ to feel so limited,” Finan said. “But ya still got some healin’ left. And ya deserve the rest, if anythin’.”

“You are very sweet,” she said. “It’s just that these ribs are a menace, and I’m so tired of feeling weak.”

“That is not a word I’d say fits ya,” he challenged.

She chewed on the inside of her cheek, Lucia feeling the ache in her bones arguing with Finan’s opinion. But she tried to ignore that unease she felt as she spared him a glance. Everything about him exuded strength, and she wondered if he’d be able to understand just what she was feeling. 

“We will see what you say when my training finally begins,” Lucia laughed.

“I don’t expect my mind to change,” he said simply.

“You say that as if our first introduction was not my collapsing in the middle of your journey home,” she said. 

Finan looked to her out of the corner of his eye with a skeptical glance. He spun to face her, walking backwards through the crowded street without much of a care for the people around him. 

“Do ya mean the day I saw ya demand to fight and save a village? And turn a nasty Dane into a bit of firewood? Or is there another day we’re talkin’ about?”

“I suppose when you look at it that way,” she said quietly, smiling in spite of herself. 

“Aye, ya might benefit from that perspective,” he said with a grin. “Now, what exactly are ya doin’ with all this?”

“Well, this is going to become my new wardrobe,” she said, reaching toward him to spin him right around again, fearing he was going to knock into another villager. “I would like to purge any reminder of my time with Lord Tredan and finally have something nice to wear-”

He spared her another glance before he raised a brow.

“Can ya do all that? Sew a dress?” he asked.

They reached the nunnery and Lucia was grateful to let the basket settle on the dirt beside her feet as she looked up to Finan. “I did all of Lady Wilda’s tailoring, I don’t think it will be too difficult, and I can use what I’ve got now as a template- oh, which reminds me, can I see your trousers?”

“What?” Finan coughed, peering down at her from behind the bolts of fabric. “My… what?”

“Your trousers?” she repeated, trying not to laugh too much at the pink that settled into Finan’s skin. “I cannot train in a dress so I thought perhaps I would fit myself something more appropriate-”

“Right,” he laughed, nodding his head. “Why not? Shall I just take ‘em off right here?”

“Yes,” she said with a wide smile. 

He tilted his head as he eyed her, no doubt trying to gauge just how serious she was. 

“Or, perhaps you could come by later when Mathilda is here,” she said then, her hands fidgeting at the skirts of her dress. “I would not mind having your company while she… pokes and prods at all the sore spots and you- could bring a pair with you?”

“I’ll be here,” he said, his voice soft.

\--

When the knock came at the door, Lucia was sitting in the middle of the floor in the main room of the nunnery, her lap covered in what would soon become a pretty new sheath she would eventually wear over a more simple dress, once she got around to it. She brushed her hands through her frazzled curls before she gingerly picked up the fabric and placed it on the floor beside her. 

“Be right there-” she called out.

She pushed herself to her feet, using the chair beside her for support. It was not the same kind of shooting pain she felt when the breaks first happened, or even the first few days afterward, but it was a dull ache she was ready to be rid of. 

The hardwood floors were cold underneath her feet as she crossed the room, wondering if it was already time for her visit with Mathilda. 

“Lady Aethelflaed?”

“Lady Lucia,” she replied, offering her a small smile. “Might I come in?”

Lucia hovered in the doorway for a moment, staring at the Lady of Mercia with a befuddled expression. Had she missed word that the Lady Aethelflaed would return to Coccham after her time in Winchester? She glanced down at her tired dress and bare feet and blanched. This was absolutely not what she expected from the evening. But there was no use in standing in the woman’s way and with a chuckle caught in her throat, she stepped aside, gesturing for her to come inside. 

“Of course, please,” Lucia said, hands lingering on the door as she watched Lady Aethelflaed follow her into the nunnery. “I apologize for the mess, I was not expecting company of your-”

But she faltered.  _ Of your stature?  _ How silly did that sound?

“Please, do not worry,” Lady Aethelflaed said. “I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

Lucia did not immediately reply, instead gawking at the woman in confusion.

“I was unkind during my last visit,” the Lady of Mercia continued. “I was unaware of your history and Lord Uhtred was quick to explain to me the nature of the situation-”

Lady Aethelflaed paused as she let her eyes wander around the nunnery, briefly narrowing in on the piles of linen laying on the rug before looking back to Lucia. There was a sincerity behind her eyes that Lucia did not expect.

“Though it should not matter, I should not have grieved you for choosing to find a new home after what the Danes did to Elentone. We stopped there briefly before continuing on with our journey and-” she faltered, eyes averting to the floor. “I am not sure I would have wanted to stay, myself.”

“Something tells me you would be the first to try and rebuild,” Lucia replied, offering the other woman a small smile. 

“Perhaps,” Lady Aethelflaed said. “Still, I did not want you to think poorly of me.”

“I do not,” Lucia told her with a shake of her head, and it surprised her to know that she meant it. “You are clearly very worried about your people here, it is admirable.”

She tucked her hair behind her ears as she remembered the woman’s earlier greeting.

“And please, you do not have to call  _ me _ Lady,” Lucia continued. “It is a fun joke Lord Uhtred has convinced everyone to go along with, but really, any status I had in Pavia certainly does not continue here-”

“I should say it does,” Lady Aethelflaed said with a tilt of her head. “Lombardei is not so foreign to us here in Wessex and Mercia. My brother was very interested to know that the daughter of a Lombard general was living in Coccham.”

“Your brother?” she replied, feeling momentarily daft. “You mean-”

“The King, yes,” the Lady of Mercia laughed softly.

“That is-” Lucia paused, throwing her hands up. “Well, that is something.”

“Do not be surprised if you are one day beckoned to visit.”

“I will pray it does not come before I have something more suitable to wear-”

There was a sense of something heavy lifting away from the room as the two women stood there, both of them smiling at each other in a way that eventually brought them to quiet laughter. 

But there was another knock at the door, this one rough and heavy. Lucia knew who it was immediately, and with a brief nod to Lady Aethelflaed, she moved back to the front door. She took a deep sigh as she pulled open the heavy wooden door and laid eyes upon Mathilda, the Healer, standing there with her giant bag of tricks on one arm and an amused Finan on the other, a pair of trousers strewn over his shoulder.

“I’ve been told I’m her apprentice for this little visit,” Finan said by way of greeting.

“Take my bag and get it set up inside. There is a bottle of lavender oil and some wool, I will need that, too-” 

There was an air of playfulness to the Healer as she gave him his instructions, holding out the leather satchel for the Irishman. He nodded, though his eyes did not leave Lucia, a smirk tugging at the edges of his lips as he took the bag from Mathilda and made his way inside the nunnery, only pausing to kiss Lucia gently on the cheek. 

“I did not know you took up healing in your spare time, Finan.”

“I’m a man of  _ many _ talents, Lady Aethelflaed,” Finan replied though his face was curious. “I didn’t expect to see ya here. Is everythin’ alright?”

But that question was not directed to the Lady of Mercia. Finan turned to look back to Lucia who was shutting the door behind them all as Mathilda made her way inside, the Healer not caring one bit about the interaction happening before her. Lucia met his eyes and nodded. 

“Lady Lucia was kind enough to indulge my apologies for the other night.”

She was surprised to hear Lady Aethelflaed so forthcoming in the reason for her visit, Lucia prepared to play along with some make believe story to save face. But she appreciated the gesture and the honesty and found herself quite liking the Lady of Mercia after all. 

“It is water under the bridge,” Lucia said with a smile and a shrug. 

“And now I must take my leave,” she said. “I’ve a message from my brother for Lord Uhtred-”

“About the Danes?” Finan asked as he pulled out the requested treatments.

“Edward will be sending resources to Elentone to help rebuild,” Lady Aethelflaed said. “But he is holding out hope it was a singular incident-”

There was something unspoken between Finan and Lady Aethelflaed, Lucia watching them both carefully as they exchanged a long glance. She was ever so curious to meet this Edward, realizing so much was said and unsaid about the young king. Eventually, Finan nodded and they all bid the Lady of Mercia a good evening.

Mathilda cleared her throat, the woman clearly ready to begin with her visit. 

“Yes, sorry,” Lucia said. “Should we move into the bedroom?”

“I won’t peek,” Finan said, throwing his hands up.

“On you go, girl,” Mathilda told her, gesturing toward the back room. “But don’t go anywhere Irishman, I’ll need your help once she’s undressed.”

Lucia shot Finan a pointed look before he could say anything, and the look he gave her in return brought a shock of gooseflesh to her skin. She shook her head as she reached the back room, a small tinge of laughter following in her wake, the door left slightly ajar.

“You are in good spirits,” Mathilda commented. “How are you feeling?”

“When I do not think of the pain, I feel just fine,” she replied as she pulled her dress over her head. “But I still struggle with menial things-”

“You did not wince once while lifting your dress,” the Healer said with a knowing smile. 

Lucia looked to the rumpled fabric in her hands and considered her words. That was true. The first time Mathilda visited her, only scissors could get her from her clothing. Maybe she had come a bit farther in her healing than she thought. She smiled at the realization.

“And your bruising is near gone,” Mathilda commented as she walked around Lucia.

She stood there, smock resting at her hips as she held her breasts with her arms. Modesty had nearly gone out the window over the last few weeks, Lucia having to find herself comfortable being near naked with the Healer and the sisters as they helped her with her bandages. 

“Brace yourself for cold hands,” the Healer continued as she rubbed her palms together. 

Lucia winced at the feeling of Mathilda’s hands as they gently massaged at what was left of her bruises and breaks. She pressed her lips together as the woman worked at her side, focusing in on the areas where she’d had the heaviest and darkest bruising. She closed her eyes as she remembered how hard she had hit the floor, the way she felt her nose bounce off the hardwood with a sickening crack. At the time, her ribs had felt like an afterthought. Who knew she’d still be suffering from this pain all this time later? 

Maybe it was the price she had to pay for the freedom it granted her.

“You’ve certainly got time left on these,” Mathilda said as she pulled away. “But you’re healing well, I can hardly feel the cracks in the bone now.”

“How much time do you think?” she asked, hopeful.

“A few more weeks,” the Healer replied. “I know you are disappointed but this is not something we can rush. The good news is that I believe we can lose the bandages now-”

“Well, that is a relief,” Lucia sighed.

Although the women of the nunnery had been so kind to help her with the changing of her bandages, she felt uncomfortable with being waited on in that way. This gave her back that missing bit of her independence. Lucia shifted to readjust her smock properly, pulling up the straps so that she was covered once again. 

Mathilda took a step back and surveyed her for a long moment. 

“Your nose looks a wonder- I impress myself every day with my realignments,” the Healer said proudly. “But I’m afraid the cuts on your chin will make a mark.”

“What is one more scar to join the collection I have already?” Lucia replied. 

“Now  _ that _ is the spirit of a true warrior,” Mathilda chuckled before she turned to face the bedroom door. “Irishman, we’ll need that oil and wool rag, come on-”

“Erm- ya want me to come into the bedroom?”

Lucia tried to stifle her laughter at the sound of his stricken words.

“It is alright, Finan,” she said. “The sisters still have at least another hour before they return.”

Still, she did a quick sign of the cross, knowing that Sister Adallinda would likely faint on the spot if she saw a man in one of their bedrooms. She made a note to inquire more about the idea of her own space. As much as she was grateful to the women of the nunnery for taking her in and giving her a bed, she knew that as her life progressed in Coccham, it would be important not to intrude on them too much longer. 

She heard footsteps across the hardwood.

“Are ya decent?” he called out hesitantly.

“Will you faint at the sign of bare shoulders?” Mathilda said with a roll of her eyes.

“Dunno, I might,” he said, recovering quickly into that playful tone. “How bare we talkin’?”

Lucia was laughing as she watched the Healer push the door open, removing any obstacle from Finan entering the back bedroom. She did feel nervous, and a bit exposed in her simple white smock, but Mathilda had been applying lavender oil to help soften the bruising on her side and back for the last few visits and that was impossible to do in regular clothing. 

And if it was going to be anyone else, she wanted it to be Finan. Even if she knew the sight of her skin might alarm him. She could not hide that from him forever.

He was standing just outside the doorway, the rag tossed over his shoulder while he held the bottle of oil in his hand. But he did not immediately come inside. He stared at Lucia, seemingly transfixed, as she stood there barefoot and barely dressed, her chestnut curls hanging down her back. She felt her skin grow warm and offered him a sheepish smile. 

Mathilda looked between them both, eyes thoughtful before she clasped her hands together. 

“You will administer the oil this evening, apprentice,” she said. “I have a man waiting for me in the pub and I am famished- Lucia, tell him what needs to be done and I will see you in another week-”

“ _ Wait _ -” 

Both Lucia and Finan spoke the word at the same time, the two of them sharing quizzical glances as Mathilda moved past them and out into the main room. She did not bother to look back at them as she tidied up her things and slung her leather satchel over her shoulder. But there was no denying the toothy grin plastered on the Dane woman’s face, so wide that her eyes squinted near shut. 

“This is so simple a task, a child could do it-” she told them as she pulled open the front door. 

Before Lucia knew it, she was alone with Finan in her bedroom in the nunnery in nothing more than a slip of white fabric. It had been easier when Mathilda was there with them, medicinal, even. Now, all she could think of was just how alone they were and all of the things they were not allowed to do while she was still healing.

“Mathilda must have faith in your healing skills,” Lucia said after the door swung shut.

“As anyone should,” he replied smartly.

“I did not know she was going to do that-”

“Lucia, it’s alright,” he said with a wave of his hand, his face softening. “I can help ya- ya know, if that’s somethin’ you’re comfortable with.”

There was a question of permission implicit in his words that Lucia had come to expect from Finan in their time together. And although it was his habit, she still felt a wave of affection for him each time. She was all too often the recipient of unwanted, well, everything from men when she was living under Lord Tredan’s roof.

She tilted her head slightly as she considered him. “I trust you.”

“Yeah?” He gave her a lopsided smile as he raked his hand through his hair, scratching at the nape of his neck. “Well, I’m glad of that.”

“Though, there  _ is _ something I need to tell you first,” she said hesitantly, careful to step backward as he ventured closer into the bedroom. “Or I suppose I should show you-”

She turned around, moving her long hair to one side of her neck to better expose her back, her smock dipping below her shoulder blades. She knew that the lashes varied in age, some pinker than others- fresh from recent whippings before her journey to Coccham, some white and faded from years before. 

“I didn’t want to startle you like I did Hild and Mathilda,” Lucia said, her voice shaky, unable to gauge his reaction with her back turned to him. “I am sure you have likely seen worse in battle but-”

Her words faded on her lips as she felt the tentative touch of his fingers against her skin. It was so brief, she wondered if she imagined it. But after a moment, the touch returned. He was gentle with her as he seemed to trace every scar that marked her. She closed her eyes as she stood there, her heart thumping in her chest.

_ “ _ There are things we share,” she heard him whisper in a pained tone.

The ship. 

She felt foolish not to have considered what these marks might remind him of, her breath catching when she remembered Finan’s words in the stables and the experiences that connected them. Battle wounds were one thing, stories to tell over ale as reminders of a warrior’s victory. These scars, perhaps they were another kind of battle won. But they did not feel like any sort of triumph.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, as she turned around, fingers flexing anxiously. “I should have thought- I mean, of course-”

“It’s alright,” he said, but she could see a brief flash of something dark cross his face and his voice grew rough. “This was that bastard ya served?”

“Yes,” she replied, her hands wringing. “But they are just scars now, nothing more.”

“Listen to me, darlin’,” Finan began, his thumb caressing her cheek. “If anyone tries to hurt ya again, I will reign hell upon them, I can promise ya that.”

She leaned into his touch for a moment before she reached up on her toes to kiss him. He was eager for it and his free hand rested at the nape of her neck as his lips parted against hers. There was a hunger that lingered in their kiss, Lucia wanting to soothe every ache that bad memories brought to him. But after a long moment, he pulled back and smiled against her lips, that darkness suddenly gone, before holding up the lavender oil Mathilda had left him with.

“Yer distractin’ me from my duties,” he said with a tinge of laughter.

She rested back down on flat feet with a sheepish smile. This was not quite the end of the secrets she still held from her time with Tredan but it was enough for tonight, enough for her. She plucked the bottle of oil from his hands and shook it gently, much like she had seen Mathilda do in her previous visits. 

“You have to use your hands,” she said as her smile twisted into something playful. “It’s just a salve for the bruising, it’s meant to settle the skin.”

He laughed, “Is that my burden this evenin’? To keep touchin’ ya? I think I can manage that.”

She led him to her bed and it was not lost on her just how intimate this was, her skin feeling warm even as the cool night air drifted in from the open window. With much consideration for what she could expose to him if she weren’t careful, Lucia pulled down the strap from her right shoulder and shimmied out of it, letting him see the brunt of where her bruising was on her side. It was a nasty shade of yellow now, but the color change at least meant it was healing. 

“If I ever see that god-damned Dane again-” Finan grumbled.

“You and I share similar sentiments,” Lucia said with a wince of laughter.

He warmed the oil between his palms before he began to gently rub it into her skin, his fingers grazing lightly against her ribcage as he worked along the outline of the bruising. She sucked in a breath as he reached the most tender spots but she said nothing, the feeling more a dull ache than a true hurt. His touch seemed to calm her pain more than anything, having him so close to her making her long for more of it. 

“Finan?”

“Yes, Lady?”

“What if I stayed with you tonight?”

When he did not immediately respond, she grew worried she had somehow said something wrong. She shifted in her spot on the bed, turning her body to face him. He was wiping the oil from his hands with the rag from his shoulder, and he looked a bit beside himself, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. She readjusted her smock, pulling the strap back up on her right shoulder as she eyed him carefully.

“Are you going to say something?” she asked. 

“I’m just thinkin’ of the lecture Mathilda gave me on our walk here,” Finan replied with a soft chuckle. “But I’d like nothin’ more than for ya to stay with me tonight- hell, every night.”

“Well, that might just happen if the nuns find us here like this,” she grinned. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These two really do come with a lot of baggage, huh? Again, thank you so much for reading!!


	13. but with eyes shut, it's you i'm thinking of

The morning sun filtered in through the shutters and draped itself lazily across the bed where Lucia lay half-asleep beside Finan, her hand resting on the arm he had curled around her belly. A yawn passed through her lips as she blinked her eyes open, the light causing her to wrinkle her nose in slight irritation. She shifted to her good side, nestling herself further under Finan’s embrace, the Irishman not waking but holding her tighter all the same. 

She smiled sleepily as she closed her eyes, letting her mind replay the previous night’s events. While there was much to think about when it came to the Lady of Mercia’s apology, she was much more attuned to the man sleeping beside her. 

The man who kissed her gently on the forehead when she made a nervous joke about never having shared a bed with anyone before, the man who asked if she wanted the windows open or closed, whether or not she needed another blanket, and was the pillow comfortable enough for her?

He rustled beside her and Lucia could feel his fingers tangle in the fabric of her smock. He pressed his body up against hers as he kissed gently at the crook of her neck. A small hum rang on her lips at his touch. It was going to be hard to pluck her from this bed. 

“Someone is awake,” Lucia teased.

“Good mornin’,” he murmured, lips still hovering against her skin. “Did ya sleep alright?” 

“I did,” she sighed happily. “This bed is like heaven and I am not ready to leave it.”

Truthfully, Lucia had slept better than she had in days, no sudden flashes of memories coming to her in the still of the night, no nightmares. Finan’s presence beside her, the weight of him holding her, it helped her drift off into a deep and soundless sleep.

“We can stay here as long as ya want, darlin’,” he said and she could hear his smile even though she could not see it. “I see no reason to venture outside today-”

She wriggled from under his grasp and turned her body to face his, propping herself up on her elbow. He looked like a dream, all tousled from sleep, the sheet twisted around his nearly naked body. Her fingers followed an imaginary line from his forearm to his bicep, her eyes drinking in the sight of him, tracing the scarring from battles that she had only heard about, and those with darker histories- like the jagged ‘S’ on his shoulder from his time on the slave ship, a mark he shared with Uhtred and one that came with an explanation late in the night while they were bundled up together under the covers. 

When he undressed the night before, left in only his linen shorts, his body seemed to glow in the dim and flickering candlelight. She had tried not to gape, thankful for the darkness that filled his bedroom to hide the pink flush in her skin. But she did not mind the strength of his arms when he slid into the bed beside her and wrapped her up in his embrace, nor the muscle in his thighs when her legs tangled with his.

“Perhaps a little while longer,” she suggested softly, her fingers teasing at his bare chest. 

His eyes followed the movement of her hand and when he looked back to her, she was chewing on her bottom lip, eyes lingering in a way that would rightfully scandalize any of the pious women she lived with in the nunnery. His lips stretched into a playful grin as his hand curved around her waist, drawing her even closer to him. She let out a breath of laughter as his lips pressed against hers, wondering if Finan had somehow read her mind. 

The desperate need for something more intimate had begun with their kiss in the stables, the way he touched her setting off a thousand different sensations in her body, each one ringing in high alert whenever he was around, her body yearning for the tenderness with which he touched her. 

She had never known what it was to want someone before but she wanted all of him.

His kiss deepened and she let her lips part, their tongues teasing each other as her fingers brushed through his unruly hair. He dragged his mouth away from hers and let his kisses trail down the curve of her neck. She tilted her head back as a small moan of pleasure caught in her throat. There was soft laughter against her skin before his hands gripped at her waist and she was suddenly on her back. 

Her lips parted with a gasp as his body lightly grazed against hers before he fit himself between her legs. She could feel his growing hardness press against her as she brought her knees up to his waist. He leaned toward her, his lips brushing across that soft spot behind her ear as he began to explore her body. 

He was gentle with her, his calloused hands moving against her skin without too much pressure, but his curiosity in knowing her body was clear. Her hands moved to rest at his shoulders, fingers digging into his flesh. He toyed with the strap of her smock, tugging it down past her shoulder as his mouth moved across her skin with a hunger, his lips continuing their journey in creating these little spots of pleasure Lucia did not know existed. 

She felt her skin grow hot as he kissed her shoulder and then the soft rise of her breast. She had worried the nerves would settle in, that her newness to all of this would cause her to go stiff but as he found her nipple beneath the fabric of her smock, his thumb rubbing against it in a tease, she yearned for more.

“Finan?” 

“I’m gettin’ carried away, aren’t I?” he said, his voice thick as he met her eyes. 

“No,” she said softly and she could see the heat behind his gaze as her back arched against his touch. “There’s too much fabric between us.”

“Are ya sure?” he asked. “I don’t wanna rush ya-”

But his words caught in his throat as her hips shifted beneath him and she tightened her thighs against his waist. That little hitch of his breath enticed her, Lucia eager to get another rise out of him. She let her fingers rake down his chest in a tease and felt a smile tug at her lips as she watched the way his body twitched beneath her touch. He watched her intently, eyes traveling down her body as she began to hike up the skirt of her smock. She wanted to feel his skin against hers, and the heat of his touch.

“I want to be with you, Finan.”

Finan did not say anything for a moment, as he shifted back, his eyes fixated on her as she slowly pulled her dress up over her hips and then her torso. He covered her hands in his, taking over the task of removing the wretched fabric she deemed was in the way and she felt a tingle flow through her body like a wave cresting as he tossed the dress to the floor. 

In the bright morning light, every inch of her was exposed- the scar that lived above her left kneecap from sword training when she was young, the small birthmark just above her right hip, the yellowing bruises on her ribcage from her fight with Oluf, the curves and peaks of her body. But as Finan’s gaze traveled over her body, she felt no judgement or pity, but like something magnificent.

“I’ve never seen a woman more beautiful,” he said, his smile lopsided and Lucia blushed.

She reached for him, her hand pressing at the nape of his neck to bring him back down toward her, Lucia eager for his kiss. He grinned against her lips as he propped himself up with one arm, his free hand wickedly mimicking her movements from earlier, tracing a line from between her breasts down to her belly button. Her body shivered underneath his touch but he did not pull away, instead dragging his fingers down even lower, tickling the skin of her thighs as she shifted her legs against the sheets reflexively.

“Ya deserve to know pleasure, Lady,” he whispered against her mouth. “And there are plenty of ways of doin’ that without messin’ with yer healin’.” 

She cursed Mathilda even as she watched his movements curiously. But she did not have to wonder what he meant for long. Another tingle ran through her body as he gently parted her legs. She sucked in a breath as his exploratory touch inched closer to that soft spot, slick with want, light at first, Finan always asking for permission. She had never been touched this way before, never felt this kind of tenderness, this kind of affection, and her body craved more of it.

A moan passed through her lips as Finan pressed against her with his fingers, teasing her in light circles. He watched her intently as he applied a certain kind of pressure, finding a spot that caused her to arch her back with a gasp, her fingers tangling in the sheets. Her body shifted beneath his touch, and she bit roughly at her bottom lip as she caught his gaze. He was enjoying the sounds she made, and he quickened his pace, shifting into a rhythm that had her writhing against his hand.

She gripped Finan’s jaw, guiding his face back to hers to kiss him roughly, needing another outlet as he slid a finger inside of her wetness, her hips lifting against his hand. He grinned against her mouth before he sucked playfully on her bottom lip. 

“Oh-” was all she could muster as he reached a particularly sensitive spot, her eyes drawing shut briefly as she twitched against his body, the way he seemed to know exactly what to do driving Lucia mad with want. 

Soon his lips were forging another path across her body. She gasped as his tongue played at her nipple, teasing it between his teeth before he moved to the other, leaving them both tender and swollen and the way he seemed to be touching her everywhere at once enough to draw another low moan from her lips.

She reached for him, fingers curling around his thick hair as his mouth left a hot trail down her stomach, her abs clenching beneath his touch. He shoved the sheets they were tangled up in out of the way before settling his body back between her legs, sliding another finger inside of her, his thumb still working circles against her. His broad chest glistened with sweat, and she found she couldn’t look away from him. 

Her breathing was growing ragged, her skin warm to the touch and Finan watched her with a heavy stare as he licked at his lips. It was a look that made her toes curl with desire and need, her legs shifting against him as she felt something stir within her. But before she could reach her climax, he slid his fingers from between her legs. 

“Not yet, darlin’,” he warned. 

A smirk tugged at his lips as his hands gripped at her thighs, palms rough against her skin as he spread her legs wider and brought his head down between them.

Lucia swallowed as his kisses resumed, this time where his fingers were before. His hands squeezed at her thighs, lifting them over his shoulders, fingers digging into her skin and she brushed her hands back through her hair for want of something to do with them. She let out another groan as his tongue darted inside of her, reaching parts of her that shot a jolt of pleasure right through her body. His mouth was greedy for her.

“Oh, Finan-” her words were breathless, barely more than a whisper. “Please-” 

She could feel her heart thumping in her chest, her hands moving to her breasts, clutching at them as Finan took his time with her, only once briefly catching her eyes as he ran his tongue across her and she let out a low hum of pleasure. 

She knew what it was to lay with someone, she thought, but this- this was something she had never experienced and didn’t even know was possible. Her entire body felt charged, as if the slightest touch could set her off. 

Her body had been building with every movement from Finan between her legs, nearing a peak of pleasure she was not sure her body could even handle. When he slid his finger back inside of her, his tongue and his hand working in tandem, she nearly lost it and she muffled her mouth with the back of her hand as she moaned, likely loud enough to alert their neighbors. 

Finan seemed to growl against her body as he quickened his pace and her hips bucked again, her body beginning to tingle all over in a way she had never felt before. She arched her back, as her body began to twitch, Finan holding her tightly against him as he continued on and she knew she was almost there.

“Finan-” but a gasp interrupted her words and she bucked again, a spasm working its way through her body as she climaxed. It was a dizzying feeling, her eyes squeezing shut as she twisted and turned, Finan’s hand gripping at her thigh as she came. The tension in her body had hit a feverish pitch and Finan did not slow down, not until her body seemed to go slack beneath him. 

She laughed, a soft sort of giggle at the intensity of it all.

“Oh my God,” she breathed, her hands covering her face. 

“None of that is God’s work,” he said with a smirk.

Finan moved from between her legs and landed on his back beside her, seemingly as out of breath as Lucia felt. She peeked at him from behind her hands and saw the flush in his cheeks and his chest. She shifted back to her side, letting her leg drape over his as she danced her fingers across his chest.

“Where did you learn that?” she asked.

“Ya don’t actually wanna know,” he laughed, as he lifted his arm to tuck her under his embrace, Lucia resting her head against his chest. 

“I do not mind that you have been with other women before,” she said, amiably. “I should thank them.”

He let out a hearty chuckle and she could feel his heart beating in his chest. She continued her dance of her fingers against his skin as she curled up against him, her eyes growing heavy. The late summer heat was beginning to trickle in through the windows and she felt a calm coursing through her, the sound of his heart lulling her back to sleep. 

\--

Lucia was slow to wake, her brow furrowing as a knocking noise filled her head. She groaned against Finan’s chest, resisting her awakeness, before she finally blinked her eyes open. She wondered if they had actually wasted the day in bed as she carefully slipped from the hold of his arm. The Irishman was still asleep, his head turned away from her with one hand resting on his chest and the other sprawled out beside him. There was a boyish quality to him in sleep, his face holding none of the tension it did when he was awake. While he did his best to cover his worry with charm and humor, she could see the way it settled into his skin. But here, now, there was such a lovely peace to him she dared not stir him. 

Not that she could if she tried. Uhtred had been right about how heavy a sleeper he was.

She pushed herself up and pressed a little kiss to the tip of his nose before she slipped from the bed. The knocking sound grew louder and Lucia realized it was coming from the front door. She frowned as she reached for her smock, stepping into it quickly and pulling up the straps. 

She was unsure of who else knew she was here, and only hoped it was not Uhtred banging at the door. Her dress lay on an upholstered settee near a dresser and she grabbed for it before slipping from his bedroom.

She managed to put it on before she reached the front door.

The knocking had slowed but still continued.

“Finan- I know you’re in there,” came Osferth’s voice. “And if you are dead at least let me know-”

She stifled her laughter as she smoothed her hair back with her hands. She quite possibly looked a mess but Osferth was certainly too kind to say anything, she knew. She opened the door to find him mid-knock. The sunlight was fierce and she squinted her eyes to help block the light as she lingered in the doorway. If he was surprised to see her, it was impossible to tell through the bright smile already plastered on his face.

“Lady,” he greeted as he clapped his hands. 

“Osferth, you were shaking the whole house,” she teased. “Is everything alright?”

He gave her a small chuckle as he rocked back on his heels.

“There’s been good news- Sihtric has a daughter!”

\--

Sihtric nearly spilled from his house as Lucia and Finan arrived, the door banging open with a start as the Dane met them outside, the smile on his face stretching from ear to ear. Lucia had never seen him look so giddy. It felt infectious. He gestured for them to come inside as his son, Tore, poked his head from just beyond the doorway, looking a little alarmed by his father’s exuberance. 

“We were not expecting her this early,” Sihtric explained, rubbing his hands together. “But Mathilda said that Ealhswith did exactly what she was supposed to do and the baby is strong and healthy-”

“Cheers, brother,” Finan exclaimed, clapping Sihtric on the shoulder. The two men hugged tightly and Lucia could not help but smile at the affection between them. “Where is she?”

“With Ealhswith- come,” Sihtric said before he sighed. “She’s beautiful.”

When they reached the inside of Sihtric’s home, Tore was already bounding up to Finan. He was the spitting image of Ealhswith, the same shade of chestnut hair with long gangly limbs and a narrow nose. He was no older than Young Uhtred but near a head taller, taking after his mother in height. 

“I’m a brother,” he said proudly. 

Without any hesitation, Finan scooped him up and tossed him over his shoulder.

“Aye, ya have a big job now,” the Irishman said. “You’ve got two ladies to protect when we’re away, wee man. Do ya think ya can handle that?”

“I can,” Tore said, though he hung limply over Finan’s shoulder, clearly pleased to be carried around. “I am learning how to use the sword.”

“Who’s teachin’ ya?” Finan asked, narrowing his eyes at Lucia playfully. “If it’s yer father we’re goin’ to have to find ya someone better-”

“Do not tease my husband today,” Ealhswith said as they entered the back bedroom, not at all looking like she just spent the last six hours in labor. “He has been filled with emotion since Revna’s birth.”

Ealhswith was tucked in bed, a pile of pillows behind her back, and the baby curled up in her arms. Her hair cascaded in curls around her shoulders and her skin was glowing. Lucia could not believe just how beautiful she looked. Finan let Tore down with a pat on the head and stepped ahead of Lucia toward the bed. Ealhswith smiled as he leaned close and planted a kiss on her cheek, his large hand curving around hers as he looked down to the baby. Lucia hung back, hovering near the doorway as she watched, her arms wrapped against her chest.

Lord Tredan and his wife never had children. Her only experience with little ones had been with Uhtred’s and they were not exactly infants. Seeing a newborn, so small and so pink and so new to the world, had her feeling unsure of herself. But it was comforting to see Finan so at ease, the Irishman laughing as the baby cooed. 

“Revna is a beautiful name,” Lucia said. “Where does it come from?”

“It is old Dane for a black bird,” Sihtric said from where he perched beside Ealhswith, his hand curved around where his wife’s leg was under the cover of blankets. “She came out with such a dark patch of hair, we think she might look like me-”

“We will pray not,” Finan said as he shot his friend a look.

But Sihtric was in too good a mood to even react to the comment, grinning instead at his wife. Lucia so often saw him as one of Uhtred’s guard, scurrying off for scouting and hunting and training in the fields; it warmed her to see him in such obvious admiration of his wife.

“Do you want to hold her, Lady?” Ealhswith asked. 

“Me?” Lucia asked, surprised, letting her hands fall back down to her sides. She offered a sort of lopsided smile as she shrugged her shoulder. “I could- I’ve never actually held a baby before-”

“Then what better time,” Ealhswith laughed. 

That was fair, all things considered. She crossed the room with timid steps, feeling all eyes on her as she reached the side of the bed where Finan stood. The Irishman made no joke as he stepped back to make room for her, his hands resting on his belt as his lips softened into a slight smile. 

“Come sit,” Ealhswith said, shuffling her hold of Revna to pat the spot beside her on the bed. “Just be careful to support her head-”

Before Lucia knew it, there was a baby in her arms and she was every bit as beautiful as Sihtric said, especially in this inbetween state of awake and asleep. She felt lighter than Lucia expected, and so fragile, but she was careful with her embrace, shifting her shoulder in order to better support her head and neck as Ealhswith instructed. The baby gurgled a soft sound as she lifted her arms from within the blanket she was wrapped in, tiny fists rising as a yawn escaped. Lucia could not help the swell of affection that hit her at that moment. 

“She is lovely,” she said, eyes fixated on the tiny bundle. “And so _very_ small-” 

“Aye, they don’t come big,” Finan teased as he crouched down beside Lucia, his one hand resting on her thigh as he reached for the baby’s fist with the other. 

“A blessing for your mother with that large head of yours,” she replied brightly.

“A hit!” Sihtric piped up from where he sat.

The Irishman cracked a wide grin as he rocked on his feet. She could not help but let her gaze linger on him, Lucia sure she would never tire of making him laugh or smile. Suddenly, Revna shifted in her arms, the baby’s eyes opening wide. She made a small hiccup sound before her fingers flexed and she took hold of Finan’s thumb, latching on with a surprisingly strong grip.

“Perhaps you two will find yourselves with a little one soon,” Ealhswith mused. 

“Oh- well- I don’t know if-”

“Bleatin’ hell, a lil’ early Ealhswith-”

The two of them fumbled with their words, speaking over each other as Lucia felt her cheeks flush with warmth. But there was something behind Finan’s eyes as he spoke, a shyness she hardly ever saw. She allowed herself, for the smallest moment, to imagine him as a father. And the vision did not sway her from the idea. 

Ealhswith’s sudden laughter pulled Lucia from her thoughts. 

“You are both as pink as pigs,” she giggled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Felt like I needed to get this one out there a little early. >.>
> 
> Hope you guys liked it!! And thank you for continuing to read. You're all amazing. <3


	14. it's hard to dance with a devil on your back

“You’re staring.”

Lucia stood in the middle of the sparring field with her arms crossed against her chest, her eyes narrowing at the two men standing in front of her. It was her first morning of training, nearly seven days after Mathilda gave her clearance to do as she wished again. Although she did not relish what training had looked like for Osferth, she still found herself eager to begin, the saex on her hip a daily reminder of what it had taken for her to begin her life here in Coccham. 

When she raised the idea with Finan, his initial response surprised her. He feared it would still be too soon, the images of her bruising all too fresh in his mind from the nights he would apply the lavender oil to her skin. 

But that argument lasted only a few days before Lucia reminded him that her body being back to normal allowed her the ability to participate in a wide variety of activities, some that would be extremely interesting to Finan- but only if he agreed to let her start sparring with the rest of them. 

“You look different,” Osferth said, as he rested on the hilt of a wooden training sword.

“What do you mean?” Lucia asked, glancing down at the outfit she had fashioned for herself. “You’ve seen a woman in trousers before, haven’t you?”

She had been hard at work the last few weeks, managing tutoring sessions with Uhtred’s children, Latin lessons with Osferth, and maintaining her chores at the nunnery all while trying to fix herself a new wardrobe. It had been a whirlwind of dying, sewing, and using a generous Sarah as a model to help pin so that she never had to wear those flimsy old dresses she carried to Coccham ever again.

She frowned as she smoothed her hands down the chainmail she wore over an indigo-dyed tunic and a matching pair of fitted trousers, tucked into her old leather boots. The chainmail and wrist guards had been a last-minute addition from Hild, the abbess not letting her leave the nunnery that morning without something more substantial. The mail hung a bit too long, Hild a few inches taller than her, but she cinched it around her waist with the belt Finan had made for her. 

“It could be the hair,” Sihtric suggested, tilting his head as he studied her.

“It’s because ya look like a warrior-” Finan called proudly as he sauntered toward them from across the field. He had two wooden shields in his grasp. “The braid’s a nice touch, though-” 

Lucia shook her head with a breath of laughter, though perhaps she felt a little self-conscious as her hand touched at the thick dutch braid she wore, tugging at it before letting it drop down the center of her back.

“Are we to begin now?” she asked.

“Aye,” Finan said as he handed her a wooden sword and shield, his hand lingering against hers as she gripped the hilt. “Sihtric will partner ya today so I can watch- we’ll start slow, see what ya might remember from when ya were a wee one.”

The Dane wriggled his eyebrows as he stepped in front of her, raising his sword with a flourish. His stance widened as he watched her, and he brought his shield to cover his left shoulder. She forgot what the weight of a sword felt like in her hands. Not the heaviness of it, she thought as she stepped her left leg forward, but the way it altered her balance. She tried to remember what her father said during their first session all those years ago, his voice ringing through her ears. _“Your foundation is essential to your survival.”_

She smiled as she readied her sword, flexing her fingers against the grip.

“Sihtric-” Finan bellowed from beside Osferth, the two men standing off to the sidelines. 

That triggered a swift attack from the Dane causing Lucia to steady her legs, her sword hand rising to try and counter. It had been near half her life since she had sparred with anyone and her reflexes were more than a little slow. Still, sword clashed against sword, and her brow furrowed in concentration as she pushed against Sihtric’s blade. 

His sword faltered for a moment before Sihtric struck low, forcing Lucia back. She swung again, with a slash against his chest but he dodged it with an annoying kind of grace, her sword only hitting the edge of his shield. Lucia set her jaw as she shifted forward, careful to watch the width of her stance, her feet planting themselves into the dirt as she ducked, Sihtric’s sword creating a breeze that tickled her ear.

They began to circle each other as they moved across the grass, the early morning sun beating down on them as they parried, Lucia’s movements not nearly as smooth as Sihtric danced around her. But she was managing to at least block his attacks with her shield, even if the reverberations seemed to shake through her whole body.

After another block of her shield, she saw an opening and struck but he was too quick and with another flourish, her sword was flying from her hand, leaving the Dane to strike her gently at the crook of her neck.

“ _Faex_ ,” she whispered and she could hear Osferth laugh.

“A hit,” Finan called out. “Not bad, Lady, not bad at all-”

Lucia rolled her eyes as she huffed a breath. She wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand, grateful she even got through it without a pang in her sides. Sihtric tapped her sword with the heel of his foot and it jumped into the air and into his hand. He flipped it around to offer her the hilt side with a cheeky smile.

“You are quick,” Sihtric commented. “Your footwork is much better than, well-”

“Everything else?” she offered with a knowing glance.

“Everythin’ else will get better,” Finan assured. “It’ll just take time.”

“Which we’ve plenty of,” Osferth said with a good-natured smile. 

She watched as the Irishman walked past Sihtric to meet where she stood in the field. His hand curved around Lucia’s where it gripped the sword, his body close as he looked down at her. Lucia sucked in a breath, staring up at him as he lifted her sword hand into the air. With his other hand he straightened out her arm, but was careful to keep her elbow slightly bent.

“Don’t lock ya arm,” he instructed. “It’ll put pressure on ya and weaken your grip.”

She nodded and he offered her a wink before he stepped backward. His face settled into something more studious as his arms crossed against his chest, thumbs hooking into the arm openings of his leather vest. 

“Let’s try that again-”

\--

The alehouse had a distinct smell to it. 

It was earthy, a waft of something like fresh grass and pine mixed with the sweat and stink of men who had a few too many pints after a long day of labor. Lucia’s nose wrinkled as she stepped inside, her eyes traveling across the patrons as they huddled in various groups, sloshing pitchers of ale back and forth to refill their mugs. She lingered near the entry as the men moved ahead toward an unoccupied table.

But when Lucia did not immediately join them, Finan paused in his step, shifting to turn back toward her. 

“Come on, then,” he said, as his hand reached out for hers. “Ya deserve a drink after today-”

She had thus far avoided the Little Monk, often finding herself busy with other responsibilities. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to bond with the men and share a drink, it was that an alehouse tended to bring out the worst in its visitors. She knew it from experience, when Tredan would come home smelling of something sour, hands too grabby and rough. But these men were not like Tredan. She felt safe with Finan, safe with Sihtric and Osferth. She could manage a short visit.

“Just the one,” she told him. “I’ve no stomach for the way you lot drink.”

“Not _yet_ ,” Finan corrected as she took hold of his hand.

Curious eyes found her as she made her way to the table near the back, her hand gripping just a bit tighter at Finan’s as she saw the way some of the other men in the village looked at her. It was a combination of leering and lust, as if she were the only woman they had seen in months. She knew it was likely heavily goaded by the liquid in their systems but still, it brought her a familiar discomfort all the same.

“How are you feeling?” Osferth asked as Sihtric plopped down beside him with a thud. “I was sore for a week after my first session.”

“That is because you are a delicate flower,” Sihtric offered.

“I feel well,” Lucia said as she tried not to laugh. “Which is a nice reprieve as I have been sore for over a month now-”

“Just wait ‘till the mornin’,” Finan warned as he waved his hand. 

“The usual?” a young woman asked as she approached, her fiery red hair tied back in two intricate braids. As she turned to take stock of the table, Lucia noticed an impressive tattoo climbing from her neck up toward her temple, a dragon with a fiery tail. Their eyes met and she looked to Lucia with interest. 

“Aye,” Finan replied as he sat beside Lucia, his legs straddling the bench. “Two pitchers if ya can, and three more cups for when the others arrive.”

“Who’s your new friend?” she asked, a smirk tugging at her lips.

“Ursula, this is the Lady Lucia, a new member of Lord Uhtred’s guard,” Sihtric said with a grin. 

“Sihtric-” Lucia rolled her eyes before she looked back to the woman. “He is just teasing-”

“Dunno, you look like a pretty fine warrior to me,” Ursula said with a wink. 

Lucia watched the barmaid walk off, her shoulders straightening at the compliment. The men dissolved into quiet laughter around her and she looked at them with mild distrust lingering in her eyes as both Finan and Sihtric pulled out their purses, the two men sliding a silver coin each to Osferth. 

“What is that?” she asked, eyes narrowing at the monk. “What is so funny?”

“It is a simple bet, m’lady,” Osferth said as he collected his winnings. 

“Please _continue_ explaining,” she said as she looked among them all. 

“It’s nothin’,” Finan laughed, his hand curving around her thigh. “Ursula, she’s a good one- and as we’ve discovered might favor more of the feminine variety-”

 _"Who_ discovered?” Lucia asked with a raise of her brow, though she had a feeling she already knew the answer, as her lips quirked into a smirk.

“Hey, this is _well_ before I knew ya,” Finan said with his hands raised in a sort of surrender.

“What was this bet?” Lucia continued on, growing more curious.

“Just how long it would take her to flirt,” Sihtric explained.

“I said as soon as we sat down,” Osferth said proudly before he shrugged his shoulders. “You are very much her type.”

“As we were leaving,” Sihtric shrugged.

“And you?” Lucia looked to Finan expectantly. “What did _you_ think?”

“Erm- well, I said after we got our drinks,” he replied with a grimace. “Clearly, I was wrong.”

“Clearly,” she repeated. “Perhaps I shall flirt back with Ursula since my own man does not think I can provoke an immediate flirtation-”

“What- no, don’t be silly,” Finan said slightly panicked, his hands reaching to slide her closer to him on the bench. “I won’t say the immediate things I felt when I first met ya as we’re with company but just know I will tell ya later.”

“Was this before or after I wiped the blood from my face?” she asked, tilting her head.

“I won’t answer that,” he replied, shaking his head with laughter. 

Lucia spared a glance to the men sitting across from them, before she winked discreetly.

“You two are weird,” Osferth replied with a bright smile. 

“What tab is this going under?” Ursula asked as she returned, holding two overfilled pitchers in one hand and the stacked cups in the other, a wonder to Lucia who did not know how she managed. 

“The baby monk,” Finan said as he took a pitcher in each hand and set them down on the table before them, ale sloshing over the rims. He looked up to the barmaid with a grin. “He recently came into some good fortune-”

“Seems it will disappear as quickly,” Osferth replied, though he made no effort to argue.

“Tally up with me later, priest,” Ursula said as she placed the cups on the table. When it became apparent to the barmaid that Lucia was settled in between Finan’s legs, she sighed. “And try not to get too shitfaced tonight-”

“We make no promises,” Sihtric called out as she walked off. 

The evening became stories of battle and of travel, one particularly humorous tale of Osferth finding himself lost in a brothel leaving Lucia in tears of laughter. By the time Uhtred arrived with Beocca and Hild, they were two rounds deep, one pitcher already snatched up for refill. For the men she was seated with, that meant very little. Lucia, on the other hand, was coming around to the taste of ale and wondering why she had not partaken in it before, a slight giggle passing through her lips as Hild settled in on the bench beside her.

“I see you did not torment her too greatly in training this morning,” the abbess remarked.

“Yes, you are in good form, Lucia,” Beocca said as he took a spot beside Osferth on the bench.

“That might be the ale,” Finan said with a tilt of his head toward her. 

“ _Non sum_ \- I am still thinking of Osferth in a dress trapped in the middle of Lunden,” she replied with animated hands, her voice laced with laughter. She rested her chin in her palm as she leaned toward the monk. “Was it a blue dress? Blue would _really_ bring out the color of your eyes-”

Sihtric choked on his ale, laughter sputtering from his lips as he clapped Osferth on the back, the monk looking positively pink in the face as he averted his gaze.

“I seem to remember it being more of a green,” Uhtred said as he settled in at the head of the table, a smirk quirking at the corners of his mouth. “But flattering all the same-”

“Aye, that one burly bloke agreed with ya,” Finan said before taking another sip. 

“It is not my fault I am pretty,” Osferth said as he pressed his hand to his chest. 

“It is what allowed us to escape,” Beocca said with a shrug of his shoulders.

“That and a perfectly positioned donkey in the square,” Sihtric added.

“All of these stories seem to end in such a similar fashion,” Lucia commented before she finished what was left in her cup. “Is it impossible to have any _peaceful_ journeys?”

“Certainly not with Lord Uhtred,” Hild replied with a knowing glance in his direction.

“Evening Lord, I see you’ve added a new warrior to your guard,” Ursula greeted as she returned with a freshly filled pitcher. She took the opportunity to refill or fill all the empty cups on the table before her. “She looks to be trouble just like the rest of your crew-”

Although she was unsure if that was meant to be flattering, Lucia blushed all the same as she smiled up at the barmaid. Finan laughed quietly under his breath as Ursula took careful attention with refilling Lucia’s cup.

“You say that as if you do not enjoy trouble yourself,” Uhtred quipped. 

“If only it were easier to find here in Coccham,” Ursula said with a sigh before she walked off, Hild watching after her with an amused glance flickering across her face.

Uhtred chuckled into his cup before he downed most of his drink in one gulp. A look passed between Beocca and Hild and it was a gesture that Finan seemed to recognize. The Irishman gave Lucia’s thigh another squeeze before he cleared his throat. 

“Somethin’ the matter, Lord?” he asked. 

“Edward is coming for a visit,” Uhtred replied as he poured himself another drink. 

Sihtric and Osferth shared a glance of their own as Finan shifted beside her, his elbow leaning against the table. The mood seemed to shift. Lucia found herself mildly curious about their King, the stories and concerns she had heard making this reaction from Uhtred unsurprising. He did not share the same favor for the King as he did Lady Aethelflaed, that was certain. She took a long sip from her cup.

“He is traveling to Elentone in show of solidarity,” he continued. “He will be here after, a week from now, and we must be ready.”

“He will be pleased, Uhtred, when he sees the work you have put into Coccham,” Beocca assured. “The village was half this size when you were given these lands.”

“It is Aethelhelm that concerns me,” Uhtred said. “He is cunning and always in the King’s ear- he is the reason Edward chose not to pursue the Danes that pillaged Elentone.” 

“He is a slimy bastard,” Finan confirmed. 

“Lord knows Lady Aelswith must contend with that decision every day of her life,” Beocca said with a disappointed sigh. “Forcing that poor boy to marry into that family-”

As intent as she was on listening to them talk politics, she found it was hard for her to follow, her brain growing fuzzy. Suddenly, a hiccup passed through her lips.

She covered her mouth with her hand as eyes shifted to her, her shoulders hunching forward. She offered a sheepish smile as she realized she had already finished her third round, her cup empty as she glanced down at it. 

“I seem to remember ya sayin’ _one_ drink,” Finan mused. 

“Ursula keeps refilling my cup,” she explained, as another hiccup interrupted her words. “It would have been _very_ rude to not finish!”

Smiles resumed on the faces around her, both Osferth and Sihtric holding back their laughter.

“Oh, no-” Finan said as he gently grabbed her hand. His eyes studied her for a moment before a wide grin spread across his face. “Darlin’, I think yer drunk.”

Lucia considered this, her head tilting as she tapped at her chin. It was when her finger missed that she looked down at her hand and began to laugh. She had never been drunk before. Is this what that felt like? She felt a bit lightheaded as a giddiness began to overtake her.

“Yes,” she said, smiling brightly. “I think I am.”

“Perhaps we should get you some bread,” Hild said as she twisted in her seat, gesturing for Ursula to return to the table. “Have you men not fed this woman?”

“ _Bread_ ,” Lucia repeated, affection pouring into the word. “That would be _lovely_.”

“We did,” Finan replied with a scoff. “We’re not animals- she’s just a bit new to drinkin’-”

“It’s true,” she said, nodding. “My first cup of ale was at that _horrible_ dinner with Lady Aethelflaed. _Not_ that she’s horrible- I actually quite like her now- but I wouldn't say she was very kind when we first met. Do you know she came to visit?”

The words came out in rapid fire and Sihtric was openly laughing now. In fact, most of the men around her were chuckling as she sat there, smiling. Even Uhtred looked at her with some mixture of amusement and warmth. If this was what being drunk felt like, she did not dislike it. There was a lightness to her, a tingly feeling inching its way into her skin. She rubbed at her face before stealing a glance at Finan. The Irishman was staring at her with such a look of affection, and a gleam behind his eyes as he shook his head.

“Aye, bread is a good call, abbess,” he said. 

\--

The evening air felt warm and thick as they stepped from the alehouse, the sounds of boisterous conversations and laughter inside fading to silence as the door swung closed behind them. The streets were quiet and dark, most villagers tucked away in their beds at this late hour. Lucia stepped into the square, her eyes peering up into the night sky as her fingers traced Draco’s constellation.

She did not spend enough time looking up at the stars.

“Why don’t you take her home with you?” 

“Ya sure?” 

“She will only cause havoc in the nunnery,” Hild replied, though there was a slight chuckle in her tone. “And Sister Adallinda has no patience for havoc.”

“That is true,” Finan nodded, his eyes carefully watching Lucia as she slowly spun in a circle, her eyes still set upon the sky. “I’ll take good care of her.”

“I know,” the abbess replied with a smile.

“Goodnight, Hild,” Lucia exclaimed as she came bounding toward the woman, throwing her arms around her into a hug.

“Oh- yes, goodnight, then-” The abbess did not immediately hug her back but soon enough her arms wrapped around Lucia’s shoulders and she gave her a tight squeeze. “Do drink a lot of water and make sure Finan finds something hearty for you for breakfast in the morning-”

“He will,” Lucia replied, wondering why Hild reminded her so much of her mother in that moment. The memory was like a prick of pain for the briefest of seconds before Finan’s voice broke her from her thoughts. 

“There’s probably somethin’ that’ll work,” Finan chuckled nervously. “Goodnight, abbess.”

Lucia watched as the abbess walked off, waiting until Hild was just out of view before spinning on the heel of her boot to find the Irishman watching her with an amused expression, his brow furrowed as his hands rested at his belt. When their eyes met he shook his head with silent laughter. 

“Why are you laughing?” 

“Yer just a delightful drunk,” he grinned. 

“I am not _so_ drunk that I’ve forgotten what you said earlier,” she said as she closed the space between them. Without hesitation, Finan wrapped his arms around her waist, tugging her against him, always looking to have her as close to him as possible. Her hands reached to smooth across his breastplate as she looked up at him. “About what you thought when we first met-”

“Ah,” Finan drew the sound out with a knowing glance. “Ya want compliments tonight, do ya?”

“I want _you,_ ” she said before reconsidering her words. “ _And_ compliments.”

“Then it’s time I take ya home with me.” 

\--

Lucia undressed slowly, her brain moving faster than her body in this particular moment. She felt another hiccup catch in her throat as she worked the fastenings on her wrist guards. She placed them carefully on the dressing table before she moved to undo the belt around her waist. She let her fingers run along the leather braiding for a moment, her eyes traveling to Finan where he sat at the edge of the bed. He had removed his armor and was fussing with the laces of his boots when he looked up.

“We’ll have to get ya yer own armor,” he said, watching as she shimmied the chainmail up and over her head. “Somethin’ that fits ya right-”

“Isn’t it strange to think that I once owned nothing at all?” she mused, leaning back against the dressing table, her hands resting against the edges. “That I _was_ owned once- and now I’m earning a wage and buying my own things-”

She let her gaze fall to the floor as she took a deep breath. She was beginning to feel dizzy again, her head clouding with ale and memories she would much rather forget. She rubbed at her temples with both hands. 

“Lucia, come ‘ere,” Finan said softly. 

Her steps toward him were unsteady but the moment she was close enough, his hand reached for hers and he pulled her down onto his lap, his arm wrapping around her waist as his other hand reached up to caress against her cheek. She leaned into his touch, her eyes closing as she let her breathing steady. That wave of dizziness was not quite fading but certainly sobering.

“What is happenin’ in that head of yours?” he asked. 

“I am not feeling delightful anymore.”

“Yer always a delight, darlin’,” he said, his thumb reaching to put gentle pressure on her temple. It was a soothing touch. She opened her eyes to find him studying her with concern, his brow furrowing as he held her. “Ya know, if there’s somethin’ ya need to talk about, I can be that for ya-”

“But you have been,” she told him, her fingers flexing anxiously. “I just do not want to overwhelm you with every sad thing that has ever happened to me, as if that is all I am.”

“Ya know that is untrue,” he said with a shake of his head, his hand moving to rest across her thighs. “Do ya wanna know what I thought when I first met ya? When we found ya in the woods?”

She pressed her lips together as she nodded her head. 

“I wondered where the fight in ya came from, how ya could wipe off the blood and hop on a horse and fight for people who’d never do the same for ya-” he said. “There is so much more to ya than just sadness, Lucia. Yer more than just the scars ya carry.”

“There are invisible ones I do not know how to talk about,” she said softly, her voice cracking just slightly. “Times that he would do things to me that hurt worse than any lashing- and it all just consumes my thoughts in moments I cannot predict-”

“Like that dinner,” Finan said, his eyes darkening. 

“Or even now,” she sighed. “I think of Lord Tredan and what he took from me and I feel-Finan, I feel as if I am _rotting_ from the inside out-”

She choked back a sob, annoyed with herself as the tears welled in her eyes. She had not wanted this, not wanted to end the day on such a note. But the memories were not waning, not fading in the way she had hoped. Finan held her tightly, reaching to brush her tears from her eyes as they fell with a whispered, _“It’s alright. I’m here-”_

“But then,” she swallowed as she caught her breath. “I think of you, and the rest of the men, and the kindness you’ve all shown me and I am reminded that I am more than what he did to me. But it is an endless game I am playing and it is exhausting.”

“It’s not a game ya have to play alone,” he said, his fingers tilting her chin up just slightly. “There are burdens we carry for each other here, and this is a weight I can manage, if ya let me.”

“You _would_ do that, wouldn't you?" she asked, continually amazed by the Irishman. 

“I’d do anythin’ for ya,” Finan said quietly. “We can move at yer pace, whatever ya need it to be-”

She leaned into him, resting her forehead against his as he held her and the meaning of his words were not lost on Lucia. She did not know how easily she could share the weight of her torment with him, but letting it live outside of her brain even for a few moments did seem to help. She marveled at the idea that she did not have to live within her own secrecy, that there was someone to share the good and the bad with. And that she could be the same for him, the want so strong it radiated through her skin. 

Was this what love felt like?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little Latin lesson! A nice little comeback for these. "Faex" is roughly meant like "aw crap" and "Non Sum" is being used like "not true!" or just "no!" in case you were curious!
> 
> Also, drunk Lucia was genuinely so much fun to write. I hope you guys like this one! <3


	15. but you're a king and i'm a lion-heart

In the days leading up to the King’s visit, Coccham was busier than Lucia had ever seen it. With the summer nearing its end, traders were visiting the port more often, hopeful to unleash their wares before autumn approached. The farmers were prepping their fields for harvest, working tirelessly to fortify against the first frost. Each and every villager seemed to have something to keep them preoccupied, Lucia noticing more and more work being done on the cottages as she went about her daily routine, with men patching holes, expanding lofts, and cutting new wood for shutters and fences. 

She wondered if Uhtred was not trying to further beautify Coccham before King Edward’s arrival. But the Lord would not admit that freely, she knew. Especially as she watched him now, head down at the dining table as he went through tax papers and trade agreements, his brow furrowed in concentration as his children worked quietly around him. 

Lucia had them all on a rug on the far side of the room, furs and pillows sprawled out for cushioning as they attended to their assignments. Young Uhtred was deeply enthralled with the newest chapter of his book, his back hunched over as he sat with his legs crossed and his chin resting in his palms. Stiorra was laying on the flat of her belly, pen wedged between her lips as she studied the spelling test Lucia had designed for her to recreate the names of the pagan Gods. 

And while the older children were preoccupied, Lucia was focused on the fidgety baby in her lap, the young Osbert growing restless with his maid and longing to be with his brother and sister. They were playing a game of peek-a-boo while his maid busied herself with the cleaning of the children’s bedroom. Osbert’s laughter rang through the hall as Lucia opened her hands wide and then closed them again. 

Suddenly, the door to the hall opened and Sihtric slipped inside, and she noticed a note of urgency on the Dane’s face. Uhtred looked up, resignation quietly settling in to his already weary features, before he rose from his spot at the table. 

“He is here?”

“Yes, Lord,” Sihtric replied. “Just coming down the hill now-”

“We will meet him outside,” Uhtred replied before he turned to face Lucia. “Have Ama take the children and then follow, he will want to meet you.”

Lucia’s brow furrowed as she opened her mouth to speak but Young Uhtred was already standing to face his father, “But why can’t _I_ meet the King?”

“There are matters that young ears cannot hear,” Uhtred replied carefully. “If you take care of your brother and sister, perhaps you will sit with us at dinner tonight.”

“Really?” Young Uhtred asked as Stiorra rolled her eyes.

“Do not make me reconsider,” Uhtred said with a narrowed glance. “Now go-”

The conversation must have traveled down the hall as the young nursemaid came hurrying from the children’s bedroom. She was perhaps not much younger than Lucia, a pale girl with shockingly blond hair and a small button nose. She gathered Osbert from Lucia’s arms, settling the boy on her hip before reaching for Stiorra’s hand.

“Come children,” she said, her Danish accent soft and soothing. “We will finish your studies while Lady Lucia is with your father.”

“Thank you, Ama,” Lucia said as she got to her feet, reaching to squeeze the girl’s shoulder.

They exchanged brief smiles before Lucia turned and followed Uhtred and Sihtric into the blindingly bright afternoon sun. She smoothed her hands down the skirt of the pale pink apron she wore, the sleeveless shift layered over a creamy white linen underdress with sleeves stopping just before her elbows, her belt cinched at her waist. She had not known for certain she would meet the King but felt grateful to her past self for sneaking a bath the night before as she brushed her curls back behind her ears.

“How long does the King plan to visit?” she asked, as two guards pulled open the gates allowing six men to ride through. She narrowed her eyes against the sunlight, trying to determine which man was which. “Is that him there in the front?”

“I am hoping it is just the night and that- is Steapa,” Uhtred corrected with a chuckle. “He is the head of the King’s guard-”

“You are looking for the small one behind him,” Sihtric offered with a smirk.

She was not sure what she expected, but she was surprised that he seemed to be no older than she was, his face fresh and young and smattered with freckles. He was chuckling at something another guard said as they passed through the gates, and she hoped his pleasant spirit would last through the day as she took stock of the rest of their group. Riding beside Steapa was an older man with a grizzled beard and face sour enough to make Lucia assume this was Lord Aethelhelm, the King’s father-in-law and advisor. Trailing the group at the back were two more guards, both of them studying the group that waited for them to dismount.

She spared a glance at Uhtred, his jaw set as he stood beside her. She gave his hand a brief squeeze, a hopeful reassurance that regardless of the reason for the King’s visit, all would be well. He looked to her out of the corner of his eye, the smallest of smiles at his lips as he squeezed her hand back.

As boots hit the ground, Uhtred and Sihtric were moving forward. Lucia hung back and watched as they all greeted each other, bracing arms. She enjoyed watching a playful greeting between Uhtred and Steapa and Sihtric. The size difference among the men was something that she would mention to Finan later, trying her best not to laugh through her smile. Steapa was a hulk of a man, truly intimidating and rivaling the Danes in his size, but he seemed to have a surprisingly kind smile.

“How was your journey, Lord King?” Uhtred asked.

“Rather peaceful,” he replied and Lucia was pleased to see the smile remain. “So, this is Coccham?”

A breeze swept through the courtyard, ruffling the King’s hair, his fair locks hanging over his eyes in envious waves, and Lucia could not help but notice just how young he seemed and how clearly in awe of Uhtred he was. She wondered where the discontent came from on Uhtred’s side- she could imagine it was only beneficial to have a King’s support. But there was still a stiffness to him, perhaps only noticeable to someone like Lucia or Sihtric who knew him well.

“Yes, Lord, I can show you around after we’ve eaten,” Uhtred replied, gesturing back to the Main Hall. “Our kitchen has been preparing a meal for you and your men, plenty of ale too-”

“That is generous,” Edward replied, nodding his head. “I would be pleased to have a drink after our journey, and I believe we’ve much to discuss. Where are the rest of your men?”

“Father Beocca and Osferth are leading prayer for the sisters in the chapel,” Uhtred said with a tilt of his head toward the far side of the village. “And Finan is managing the trade port-”

Uhtred gestured toward the waters, and Lucia could see the Irishman distracted with merchant logs as a trader watched him nervously. She could not help but smile as she watched him chuckle at his own joke and clap the trader on the back.

“It is a busy day at the dock?” Lord Aethelhelm inquired. 

“Summer has been bountiful, Lord,” Uhtred replied. “Men are more eager to trade on the Thames now that we have declared peace-”

“That was my hope,” Edward said before his eyes shifted to Lucia and the King titled his head curiously, a smirk playing at his lips. “Did you marry again, Uhtred?”

Sihtric’s eyes widened as his mouth became a tight line to prevent his laughter from escaping, Lucia nearly ready to whack at his shoulder as she felt a heat rise at the back of her neck. 

“No, Lord King, though it was not for lack of trying, I assure you. This is Lady Lucia of Pavia,” Uhtred said and there was a gleam behind his eyes as he spoke that nearly caused Lucia to laugh, the wicked look a reminder of earlier days. “She has become an important fixture here in Coccham-”

“It is an honor, Lord King,” she said as she bowed her head and shoulders slightly.

“My sister told me about you,” Edward said, as he stepped toward her and she could feel his eyes travel over her in the briefest of ways. “Will you join us? I am eager to learn more about your journey here.”

Lucia looked up, eyes catching Uhtred’s briefly and when he nodded, she offered the King a smile. “Of course, Lord King, I would be happy to.” 

\--

“And how is Elentone, Lord King?”

Lucia felt a twitch in her belly as the conversation shifted but she was grateful for Finan beside her, his arm resting at the back of her chair. She knew the King spent some time in her former village as it neared its rebuild and she could not help but feel curious as to what it looked like now- was it the same? Or did a new Ealdorman insist on changes? She watched as the King took a long sip from his mug before replying.

“It is inspiring,” he said from his seat at the head of the table. “The priest gave great detail of the raid and it is impressive they were able to make such improvements when they lost so many men-”

“Especially their Ealdorman,” Lord Aethelhelm interjected as he wiped at his mouth with a cloth napkin, pushing his chair back slightly from where he sat at the left hand side of the King. “The people mourn Lord Tredan and his wife most graciously it seems.”

Lucia’s brow furrowed, her mouth drawing into a frown as she thought of the possibility of anyone mourning two such vile individuals. The disgruntled nature of her face caught Sihtric’s eye and he raised his eyebrows from where he sat across from her. She could only roll her eyes in response and the corner of his mouth quirked. She continued to wonder if that were true, if the people of the village mourned, if it were possible for anyone to have a positive experience with her former masters. She could not imagine it as she pushed the food around on her plate, stabbing at the vegetables forcefully. 

“Do not harm the potatoes, darlin’,” Finan whispered in her ear and she spared him a sheepish glance as she relinquished her grip on the fork. 

“But they rally around Lord Audeca,” Edward continued. “Who is now responsible for the lands and security of the village. We have left guards behind to help man their gates and train their men. We might be living in peace but we cannot be too careful-”

Uhtred cleared his throat and both Lucia and Finan turned their attention to their Lord. “There is talk, Lord, of Danes factioned from Cnut that are restless, and not agreeable to the treaty.”

“You and my sister talk of these raiders,” Edward said with a shake of his head. “But did you and your men not defeat them just recently?”

“That was a small party,” Uhtred replied. “A handful of men- we know there are more, and I am almost certain they are led by Haesten, a man we both know well to cause chaos when he can and take advantage.”

“Was this Haesten not once valuable to the throne?” Lord Aethelhelm asked and Steapa huffed a breath of laughter though he did not speak a single word. 

“That turd is helpful to no one but himself,” Finan said with a roll of his eyes. “He will feed ya the wrong information and then tell yer enemies when yer comin’.”

“His only concern is of silver,” Uhtred said.

“He is a nuisance,” Edward agreed, his fingers tapping against his mug. “Let me think on this, Uhtred. We have men still recovering from our last great battle. I do not want to put anyone in needless danger.”

She knew Uhtred was worried an attack would come on another village or seep into Mercia, but there was also the effort to track Haesten and his men and did they have the time and resources to do that before winter hit? She let her eyes travel amongst her men at the table. No one said anything and for a moment she feared there would be conflict but instead, Uhtred only nodded. “We are in agreement, Lord.”

She could not help but breathe a soft sigh of relief. 

“I should like that walk now,” Edward said and his attention once again shifted to Lucia. “Will the Lady accompany us? We have not yet gotten a chance to speak.”

His eyes were kind as they settled upon her and she found his attention intriguing. She remembered his sister’s words when Lady Aethelflaed last visited, how interested he was in a Lombard general’s daughter living in Wessex. As she offered him a soft smile, she wondered why that could be.

“That would be lovely, Lord King,” she told him.

As the men rose from the table, she rested her hand on Finan’s arm to capture his attention. 

“Do you mind?” she asked, her voice a whisper as plates clanged against each other, two young servants busying themselves with clearing the table. 

“If all the King is askin’ for is a walk, I can manage,” he replied with a wink.

They were a large group as they walked from the Main Hall, Uhtred leading the King through the courtyard and toward the marketplace. Edward walked beside Lucia, his hands clasped behind his back and she found it a position much more suited to an older man. Following behind them was Lord Aethelhelm, with Steapa and Finan at the rear, the two warriors trading barbs with one another under their breath. Sihtric offered to show the rest of the King’s guards to the inn and used the opportunity to dash home, eager to spend time with his family before dinner was required later in the evening. 

“Father Aldwin spoke of you. He said that you were quite helpful in sparing the people of Elentone from the slave trade,” Edward began with a hint of a smile. “I’m afraid we have seen too many villages in my life disappear due to Danes.”

“I was quite grateful to Uhtred and his men,” she said simply, her arms wrapping against her chest. “I wanted to be useful in any way I could-”

“She is quick on her feet, Lord King,” Uhtred mused. “She is training now with my men.”

“Are you?” Edward asked with a hitch of his brow. “Does a Lady intend to become one of his guard?”

“I intend to make sure I can protect myself,” she answered truthfully. “I am still not certain Lord Uhtred needs a woman in his guard. I am not keen on fighting. I much prefer teaching-”

“ _You_ are teaching?” Lord Aethelhelm asked, baffled. “A woman?”

“Lady Lucia is learned,” she could hear Finan grumble from behind them and she could not help but smile as he spoke. “She’s got Osferth prattlin’ off Latin like it’s his birth language-”

“And yet when these men found you, you were a servant to Lord Tredan and his wife,” Lord Aethelhelm continued, his voice skeptical. “How does that happen to an educated Lady of Pavia?”

She could feel the tips of her ears turn red with heat, angry words itching to leap from her tongue. But she did not dare turn around to meet the older man’s eyes, instead keeping them focused on the path ahead. “Errant behavior by meddling politicians, Lord. I was taken from my parents as a child, and delivered here not as a servant but a slave. The distinction is important.”

The King turned to look at his father-in-law with a steady glance, the two men letting something unspoken go between them and the older man bowed his head. 

“You also teach Uhtred’s children, do you not?” Edward asked.

“I do, Lord King,” she said with a nod, sparing Uhtred a brief glance before she continued. “I try to follow the teachings I learned when I was younger- education in Pavia was a great priority to the Crown and to the Church. Young women often did not have the opportunity but my mother’s father was an official within the _referendarii_ of Pavia and he was insistent on my learning.”

“Uhtred, it is impressive you have acquired such education for your children,” the King said, turning to him with an appreciative glance. 

“It is,” Uhtred replied with a chuckle, his eyes settling on Lucia in amusement.

“Your name felt familiar when my sister spoke of you,” Edward said, then. “It seems our fathers met once. Long ago before mine became King and well, before either of us were born.”

Lucia stopped, her arms dropping to her sides as she turned to face the King with wide eyes.

“Are you certain, Lord King?”

“Where did you read this?” Lord Aethelhelm asked, perplexed.

“What was your father’s name?” Edward asked, ignoring his father-in-law. 

“Domenico Paolo Bonaventure,” she said, her voice quiet, realizing she had not spoken his name aloud in years, perhaps as long as she had been in captivity, just the feeling of it on her tongue enough to bring a chill to her skin. 

“A high-ranking Lombard general,” Edward said with a smile and his features softened. “And a devout Christian man who spent hours speaking with my father of scripture during a visit to Rome.”

“Is that really true?” she asked, laughing softly, still not quite believing what she was hearing. “His name is- in a book somewhere?”

“My father’s chronicles,” the King replied. “Uhtred knows of my father’s obsession with history. He wrote down every matter of importance, every battle, every war, every visit outside of Wessex. And he was especially fond of his time in Rome.”

Lucia did not know what to say. She thought of her parents often, striving to keep the memories she had of them alive in one way or another. She did not think she would ever have a glimpse of either of them in this way. She wanted to hug the King, to thank him for this gift he had given her, but she knew she could not.

“ _Permitte divis cetera_ ,” she said, her voice still shaken with surprise. 

“ _Deus vult_ ,” Edward replied with a knowing grin.

\--

Lucia was quiet as she moved about Finan’s bedroom, careful to avoid the creakier floorboards as she dressed. She had not intended to stay the night but their evening with the King and his men had been rather enjoyable, no doubt due to Lord Aethelhelm excusing himself for early sleep and of course, the neverending barrels of ale that Ursula had delivered. It was around her third cup that her lips loosened, enough for her to whisper in the Irishman’s ear that she did not want to crawl into a bed without him. 

He had been immediately agreeable. 

And even understanding when she had fallen asleep before properly undressing, Finan taking careful care to remove her boots and her dress before tucking her into bed beside him.

“What if ya stayed?”

A hint of a smile played at Lucia’s lips as she pulled tightly at the laces of her boot. 

As tempting as that particular offer sounded, she had already let herself linger in bed longer than she intended. And she had a day packed with activities ahead of her: a morning lesson followed by sword training in the afternoon, her first with the new leather armor she recently acquired. It was the first real thing she purchased from her savings of silver. But Finan was still splayed in bed, not quite fully awake, with a pillow curled under his arm to prop him up as he looked at her and Heaven help her, she’d be lying if she said that wasn’t a very inviting sight. 

Especially because any bedtime activity she’d hoped for had been halted by her own drunken, tired self.

She rose from her spot on the settee across the room to perch herself on the edge of his bed beside him, her eyes narrowing at him playfully as she brushed his hair off his forehead. “And deny two young children their education?”

“Well, as much as I’d like ya to crawl back into bed right _now_ , I meant somethin’ more permanent,” Finan said carefully, his fingers toying with the fabric of her trousers, his touch unintentionally tickling her thigh. “Ya can’t stay in the nunnery forever.”

“And you would have me here?” she asked, softly. “You and I- living together?”

He laughed, “Did I give ya another impression?”

“No, I-” She shook her head with a huff of laughter. “I just don’t know if we should- it is risk enough already to stay here sparingly, and we’re not-”

She pressed her lips together as the word clung to the tip of her tongue. 

“We’re not what?” he urged, curiosity brimming behind his eyes, as he moved to sit up.

“Married,” she said as her chest began to tighten. “It would not be seen as appropriate-”

Not that her visits to Finan’s were appropriate to begin with. It had not gone unnoticed the mornings she would sneak from his place to return to the nunnery, villagers in their errands occasionally whispering about the still new, still unmarried, clearly not intending to become a novice even though she was using valuable resources from the nunnery, foreign woman that came to Coccham with the Lord and his guard. And although her position as tutor to Osferth and Lord Uhtred’s children was quite public, rumors were fierce and there would always be accusations of whoring when a single woman was to be concerned. 

Moving into a man’s home without any indication of marriage would only exacerbate that. 

“Married, eh?” 

There was a lightness to his tone and he seemed to ruminate on the word as he tilted his head. But he did not say anything else and a silence stretched between them, causing Lucia to panic slightly. 

“That was not a proposition,” she said quickly, feeling her cheeks grow hot. “We’ve only known each other a short time and I am perfectly fine to-”

“Ya know, I was betrothed without meetin’ my first wife at all,” he said casually.

She blinked. “You were married before?” 

“Aye, we were real young, too young-’” he said with a wave of his hand. “Barely fifteen and it was misery for both of us, but such is your lot when yer born a prince-”

Her chest tightened and she felt a desperate urge to know more. She wished she did not have to leave because a hundred questions were forming, her mind turning as she thought back to the stables and the words he shared of his past. He had fallen for someone unavailable- in such ways that his sentence had been banishment and slavery. Had it been adultery on both sides? Her brow furrowed as thoughts seemed to tumble into themselves. 

“Lucia-” Finan’s voice was soft as he snapped her from her preoccupation. “Do ya think I’d talk of ya movin’ in here if I had not already thought of marriage?”

“You have?” she asked as his words settled, her voice unsteady.

“It’s all I’ve been thinkin’ about,” he told her, and he laughed in spite of himself, a shyness settling into his features. “If you’ll have me, I’ll talk to Uhtred today- I’ll need his permission, and blessin’.”

Ealhswith had told her once that Uhtred took nearly a fortnight before agreeing to Sihtric’s proposal, that if it were not for the Lady Gisela he might not have approved at all. There had been concern that a tavern prostitute would use a man of Uhtred’s guard. But Ealhswith saw the sun in her husband, that much was evident whenever Lucia was around them- and for Sihtric, she was his star. 

“What do you think he’ll say?” 

“What will _you_ say?” he asked, exasperated, his hand grasping hers. “Yer answer is the one that matters here-”

“ _Oh_ -” 

Lucia looked down at their hands joined together, studying the scratches and scarring across his knuckles from battles won before, the way he laced their fingers together and clung tightly. When she was younger, she had often wondered who her husband might be- would he be kind, careful, full of love? She knew a girl of her station would not be granted a preference and worried he would be boring or old, maybe even cruel. Her mother had been lucky to have her father, but not all women would be granted the same favor.

She brought his hand to her lips, cradled in both her own, and kissed his knuckles softly.

“I would like to be your wife,” she told him, her eyes feeling wet as she pressed his palm to her heart. “I would like that very much-”

Finan let out a breath, a shock of laughter catching in his throat. “Christ, Lucia-” 

He leaned forward, his palm holding steady against her chest as he cupped the side of her face with the other. He studied her for a moment, his lips quirking into a smile that left Lucia feeling breathless, and when he kissed her, it was as if he gave her life in his gentle touch. His lips lingered against her own before they trailed briefly to the corner of her mouth, to the line of her jaw, to the soft spot behind her ear. Each brush bringing a tingle to her skin. 

“So, yer certain, then,” he said in wonder, the lilt of his tone not quite a question as his fingers tucked a tendril of curl behind Lucia’s ear, his hand resting at the nape of her neck.

“I could never say no,” she told him, a smile stretching across her face. “You just surprised me, is all, and now I have to go and tutor and I do not want to, and that is all your fault.”

“I take full responsibility,” he grinned. “I’ll let ya punish me later-”

“ _Finan-_ ” 

“For the rest of our lives, really,” he continued, a wicked gleam behind his eyes.

“You _are_ a devil-”

\--

The sparring field was more crowded than usual as Lucia approached from beyond the marketplace, her shoulders shifting under the armor she was still trying to familiarize herself with. It was a rather peculiar feeling, the intricately woven leather cuirass snug against her body, thick enough to protect her against superficial scratches in battle but light and soft enough to allow her to move with some kind of grace. She made a final check of her wrist guards before brushing her hands against the armor skirt protecting her thighs.

It had been one thing to borrow Hild’s chainmail, it was another thing entirely to have something bespoke. It suggested a permanence that she was not sure suited her. But it did feel good, and she could not deny that she felt closer to her father as she attached every piece.

“Dead!”

Sihtric drew his wooden sword from the side of Finan’s waist with a flourish and a bow, much to the Irishman’s chagrin and to the delight of Uhtred, Osferth, and Beocca. The three men were off to the side, Osferth perched on the bench with Beocca, and Uhtred standing behind them, all with wooden swords at the ready. She had never seen Beocca at the sparring field before. 

Finan held out his arms in peace toward the Dane as he shook his head, grumbling something about distractions when Lucia finally approached. 

“That was yer fault,” he said, pointing his sword directly at her belly. 

“How can that be?” Lucia asked, raising her eyebrow. 

“Ya cannot just walk onto a field during a match, not lookin’ like that,” he told her before his face settled into an easy grin, his sword lifting away to rest on his shoulder.

“This flattery will get you nowhere,” she teased, her hands resting at her hips.

“Ya say that as if ya did not accept my proposal this morin’,” he said, quite proud of himself. Then, with a tilt of his head toward her, “Uhtred gave us his blessin’.”

“He did?” she asked, her voice soft. But he had taken so long to decide about Ealhswith. She shook her head, her brow furrowing as she looked past Finan to where Uhtred stood and found her Lord chuckling. “You did?”

“I did,” Uhtred replied as a genuine smile spread across his face. “It is true.”

“So, that means-” A lightness began to settle into her skin as the realization settled. She looked back to Finan, her eyes searching his for confirmation. He had this way of looking at her that brought a fierce warmth to her skin, an urge in her belly to be as close to him as possible. Her lips curved into a smile as she rose up to wrap her arms around his shoulders. “You are stuck with me.”

“Aye, darlin’,” Finan replied as he tugged her close. “I am yours-”

Osferth cleared his throat.

“Perhaps, we continue training tomorrow and spend some time in the alehouse celebrating?”

“You are just trying to get out of our match,” Beocca remarked.

“I am not,” the monk replied feigning affront. “I am genuinely happy for our friends and do not think we should waste time with a sparring match when we can be drinking to their future.”

“We do drink to everything else,” Sihtric offered.

“Aye, nothin’ better than some ale in honor of my bride,” Finan said, arms still wrapped around Lucia’s waist. 

“Let us celebrate,” Uhtred agreed, clapping his hands on Beocca’s shoulders. “I will fetch Hild and we will drink.”

“Splendid idea,” Osferth exclaimed as he rose from the bench, quickly dropping his wooden sword into the locker of training tools. “A true shame we did not get in our match before Lucia arrived, Father-”

“Oh, my boy, you will live to see another day, yes,” Beocca replied with a wicked grin. “Tomorrow, I am not so sure-”

But they did not get very far out of the sparring field before a young man Lucia recognized from Uhtred’s guard came barreling toward them. He was breathing heavily, dirt marks spread across his face and arms, his thick black hair drenched with sweat and his dark eyes wide with what looked to be fear. Uhtred stepped forward, his hands out to rest on the boy’s shoulders.

“We came as quickly as we could-” the boy breathed.

“What is it, Edric?” Uhtred asked. 

“They are m-marching,” Edric replied, his voice sticking on that last word. “We watched them as you asked- they are marching and they are leaving tomorrow at first light-”

“To where?” Finan asked, his hand squeezing at Lucia’s before he stepped toward his Lord. “Did they say where?”

“Here,” Edric said, gulping. “We counted two hundred men, if not more. They want Coccham. They want the Dane Slayer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! A lot is happening here 😅so get ready for a fun few chapters coming up next 👀
> 
> Latin Lesson: Permitte divis cetera means "Leave all else to the Gods" | Deus vult means "God wills it" -- this little interaction is sort of like Lucia being like "what a small world" and Edward implying it is divine fate.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading, commenting, and being all around incredible human beings! Especially my favorite enablers.


	16. over the glowing hill, i will conquer

Uhtred’s spies found Haesten and his men camped near Headington, less than half a day’s journey by horse if they were swift. If the Danes were planning to march at first light, Uhtred and his men would leave at dusk and ride through the night. An ambush in the woods would prevent them from reaching Coccham’s borders and perhaps finally take care of these raiders once and for all. Lucia felt there was risk in the immediacy of it all, having only a few hours to prepare some sort of attack. 

But Uhtred was confident in his plan. He was certain and so, his men were as well. 

The evening came much too quickly.

The sun was only just beginning to set, the sky glowing in shades of pink and orange and gold, illuminating the clouds as they seemed to tumble from the heavens. Heat lingered in the air, thick and heavy, as stablehands readied the horses and men said goodbye to their wives. Lucia stood, digging the heel of her boot into the dirt as she watched the women, listening to the hushed tones of luck and good health, kissing them, praying, holding them tightly. It was a duty to be strong as the wife of a warrior, never knowing if this would be the last goodbye.

She was not yet a wife but she felt that burden all the same.

She wondered how Hild kept her composure, her goodbyes to the men filled with teasing remarks and warm smiles. But Hild was a warrior once, perhaps would always be in some way. She did not need to add any more weight than what they were already carrying, the abbess knew enough of that herself. 

Lucia tried her best to follow suit, to hold the concern creeping into her skin at bay as she hugged each of the men. She had to remind herself that they were the warriors that had saved her in the woods, and the fierceness with which they fought and defeated the Danes that night. As they have many times before. This would be no different, she told herself. 

“You are squeezing rather tightly, m’lady,” Osferth said in her ear as she hugged him.

“Oh- sorry,” she said, releasing her grip, her hands patting at the monk’s shoulders awkwardly. “I am quite new at this-”

“You will become used to it,” Ealhswith said as she adjusted the fit of Sihtric’s armor, the Dane looking at his wife in what Lucia could only describe as a lovesick daze while she tightened the ties on his waist, Revna wrapped up in a sling against her chest. “It is often with these men-”

“But we’ve God on our side, Lady,” Beocca told Lucia as she kissed his cheek. 

“Will God appreciate when we string up Haesten’s men by their balls?” Uhtred asked.

“He might enjoy the creativity,” Osferth offered.

The men bickered as they mounted their horses, Osferth and Beocca recounting some of the harsher punishments in scripture as Uhtred rolled his eyes in Lucia’s direction. She could not help the laughter that bubbled in her throat, thankful for the ease among the men. In the near two months since her arrival in Coccham, they had become her family, these men and Hild and Ealhswith. She had found comfort in her routine in the village, of the jokes and tales told over meals, of the moments alone with Osferth as they studied, or sparring with Sihtric in the fields. Even the quiet moments in the chapel with Beocca, and when Uhtred sat in on her lessons with his children, listening as his son read stories of Odin and Freya aloud. 

It made watching them head toward the gate that much more difficult. 

“There’s too much sadness on that face-”

“It is worry,” she corrected gently, tilting her chin up to meet Finan’s eyes as he approached, fully dressed in both his mail and armor, his sword and dagger hanging at his belt. “And perhaps, fear.”

“I don’t mind ya worryin’,” he said with a hint of a smile, his knuckles grazing softly against her cheek. “But don’t be afraid, darlin’. There’s nothin’ that can stop me from comin’ home to ya.”

“You cannot promise that,” she said, quietly. “I have seen what Danes do.”

“This is nothin’,” Finan shrugged.

“It is two hundred men,” Lucia said, exasperated. “To a mere eighty here in Coccham-”

“Aye, but we’re all worth a few each, I figure-”

She sighed, her shoulders dropping as she regarded him carefully, “I suppose this is my punishment for falling in love with a warrior.”

“Lucia-” Finan’s voice was soft as he spoke her name, his brow furrowing as he regarded her. 

“How can I send you off to battle without telling you I love you?” she mused as she wrapped her arms around his waist. “That I will think of you every moment you are gone?”

“Finan!”

Lucia turned her head in the direction from which the voice came. It was Uhtred as he twisted in his saddle to gesture for the Irishman to mount his horse and follow them through the gates. She knew that every minute mattered now as the sun sank behind the hills and she stepped back from Finan, not wanting to delay him further. But she did not get far, his hand reaching for her, pulling her back against him as he bent to kiss her, his hands cupping at the sides of her face. It was a breathless and eager kiss, one that left Lucia flustered as they broke apart. 

“I love ya,” he said, his voice thick, his forehead resting against hers. “And I will return to ya, Lady. Ya won’t even have time to miss me-”

“I pray you are right.”

“I’m Irish-” he said, as he stepped back from her, his hands splayed out at his sides in a knowing gesture before he mounted his horse. “We’re always right!”

Hild and Ealhswith stood on either side of her as the three women watched their men ride off toward Headington. Lucia could not help but wonder what this battle would bring, the suddenness of it catching her off guard. It was only a day ago that she was listening as King Edward and Uhtred discussed what they might do. She sucked in a breath and Hild reached for her hand, squeezing gently, the two women sharing a wordless glance before returning their gaze back to the gates, still open, watching as the group grew smaller and smaller as they reached the horizon.

“Do you really grow used to it?” Lucia asked Ealhswith.

“No,” the other woman said with a dry laugh, her hand cradled against her daughter. “But you do get better at hiding your worry-”

“A rather valuable talent when it comes to these men, I’m afraid,” Hild said.

“Will they be alright?” 

She knew it was a question neither of them could answer but she could not help but ask it all the same.

“They would do anything to protect each other,” Hild said. 

“Come on,” Ealhswith beckoned as she turned back toward her home. “I have stew on the hearth and a jug of wine waiting for us. There is no use in worrying out here when we can worry in there and at least have a drink to accompany us.”

“We do have an engagement to celebrate,” the abbess said as she spared Lucia a smile.

“The Lord knows this is a joyous day, indeed,” Ealhswith smirked. “I did not think I would live to see Finan choose to settle down-”

\--

Lucia did not sleep that night.

She missed Finan, missed the presence of him beside her, missed knowing that he was home and safe and hers and that there was no one who could hurt him. She had been grateful to Hild and Ealhswith for the evening they spent together, laughing over cups of wine until they were pink and tipsy, Hild and Lucia wrapping their arms around each other’s shoulders on their walk back to the nunnery. Their friendships had become so special to her, especially with how easily they brought her into the fold. But even with their tales and advice, she still could not find peace as she tried to sleep. The night waned on, Lucia falling into terrible dreams before waking up and then repeating the process.

Unable to stand it, she was out of bed before the sun, bribing Hild with the promise that she would clean the nunnery for a week if the abbess would accompany her to the sparring field. She felt a restlessness seeping into her bones and wondered if the clashing and clanging of shields and swords would settle her. Anything to distract her from wondering about Finan and the rest of the men.

“When was the last time you wore your armor?” she asked as they approached the grassy field.

“It has been a long time,” Hild replied as her brow furrowed in thought. “I wanted to prove to Uhtred I was worthy as a warrior- and now it feels as if it is from another life altogether.”

“When he first mentioned you, I did not believe him,” Lucia admitted sheepishly. “A warrior nun! I had never heard of such a thing- but then there is so much about this place that is rather eccentric-”

Hild laughed as she nudged her foot against a wide, flat rock, revealing a key half buried in the dirt. She reached to grab it before moving to open the weapons cabinet, revealing shields, training swords and staffs alongside a few true weapons once owned by men before: an axe, a sword, and two small daggers. She grabbed two of the wooden swords and tossed one toward Lucia.

“Eccentric does not quite cover it,” Hild said with a grin. 

Lucia flexed the wrist of her sword hand as she moved toward the center of the field, eager to block out the worries clouding her brain. But the sunrise beyond the village walls caught her eye, the sky lighting up something fierce. She tilted her head, her brow furrowing as she noticed that there was something just beyond the walls coming toward them. It was hard to make out in the sort of half darkness the morning still lingered in and the walls quite high, but as she squinted she could just make out the top of the hill and the barrage of horses stampeding toward them. She swallowed and turned toward Hild only to find the abbess staring at just the same scene, her mouth parted in shock. 

Sounds like wolves howling began to fill the air.

“Is that-” 

“Lucia, the weapons in the cabinet-” Hild ordered. “Take that sword-”

“I don’t understand,” Lucia said as she shook her head, disbelieving. “How can they be here?”

“Haesten has never been a man to be underestimated,” the abbess said quietly. “Take the sword, Lucia. We will see to what’s left of the guard, and I pray we are not the only ones awake-”

Lucia nodded, doubling back toward the weapons cabinet and taking the sword in her shaking hand, her mind still in a daze as she looked back to the figures on the hill, trying to count as many as she could but growing more panicked with every new figure she noticed. The abbess reached into the cabinet and grabbed a dagger and slid it into her belt before she grabbed the axe.

“We must move, Lucia,” Hild said sternly. 

“Right, yes-” she blinked, feeling foolish, looking down to the sword in her hand. 

It was heavier than the wooden sword she had spent the last two weeks training with, but still light enough to wield, the hilt wrapped in a black leather and the blade still sharp- someone taking careful attention to keep the weapons in the cabinet in fighting form. Perhaps they were there for reasons such as this.

For attacks and raids and whatever else it was she knew Danes brought with them. 

She followed after the abbess, both women rushing through the market toward the courtyard, Hild snapping at some of the earlier rising merchants to stop what they were doing and pass the news to their families and their neighbors: an attack was likely and they needed to prepare themselves- if men were able, find what weapons they could and report to the courtyard. It did not incite any sort of quiet confidence and as they continued on, Lucia could hear frantic cries as villagers began to wake and learn the news.

“What about those who live outside the walls, Hild-” Lucia breathed. “Who will protect them?”

But Hild did not have an answer for her.

What had happened to their men? Had they reached the Danes at all? Had Haesten and his men tricked them? Or was Finan hurt somewhere in the forest? It was all Lucia could think of as Hild grabbed at a guard standing outside of the Main Hall, an older man with a thick blond beard and a stern face. He had been sitting at the window, picking at his nails with his dagger, completely unaware of the impending threat that continued to loom closer. Hild smacked at his shoulder, tugging at his armor to direct him toward the gate. He jumped from his spot and followed them toward the watch at the front entrance, and it was not lost on Lucia that she had only been standing there a few hours before, sending her man off to battle.

A battle that somehow ended up here, anyway.

There were not many men in the guard left to defend Coccham, twenty perhaps and some of them quite young in their sword skill. But as other villagers found their way to the courtyard, some with pitchforks and some with axes, Lucia was surprised to see the group that formed- farmers and merchants eager to protect their home. But even in all their haste, it seems they had run out of time.

The galloping of horses drew closer, the battle cries and howls only grew louder, and in a flash, it all seemed to come to a head, as torches of fire came sailing at the walls- and cries from the villagers who lived beyond the gates ringing in Lucia’s ears. She could hear the clashing of metal against metal as guards from the wall dropped down to defend their village and protect the villagers under attack.

It was Elentone. 

Again.

“Man the gates-”

“Hold the walls-” 

“Please- help us-”

More torches came, the wooden walls beginning to catch the flames as they licked at the structure and the smell of smoke was rife in the courtyard. She brought her free hand to her nose as she looked back to Hild, the abbess holding at the cross that hung around her neck. Her eyes were focused on the gates, but her mouth was saying a silent prayer. When a guard fell from one of the towers, covered in flames, Hild sucked in a breath. The gates began to shake, three guards rushing to hold themselves up against the wooden doors as Danes barreled against it.

“Will the doors hold?” Lucia asked.

“For all our sakes, I hope so,” Hild replied. 

\--

“Round up as many as you can! We will take what is owed to us-”

The barking order nearly cost Lucia a limb as she whipped around, the blade of an axe crashing down beside her. Her eyes widened as she steadied herself, drawing up her sword as he began to swing again. He was a mealy looking Dane, with a cut in his lip and a fire behind his eye. She grunted against his push and then ducked, dragging her sword across his belly, hearing Finan’s voice in her head as she made the hit.

He went down with a thud and she continued moving.

Even if she was finding it difficult to breathe. 

The village was in chaos. The walls were burning around her, thick smoke billowing in the courtyard as cries continued. She couldn’t hear her own thoughts over the battle calls and screams of fear. She didn’t know how long she had been fighting since the gates crashed, but she knew the Danes did not expect this. 

They did not expect a fight.

She searched for the man who made the call, eyes scanning through the crowd before settling on a portly blond Dane with charcoal smudged down his cheeks and two horn beads in his beard. Was this Haesten? Was this the man who had ordered Oluf and his men to raid Elentone? He took a single swing of his sword and fell a younger guard, no more than a child. She could feel hot tears sting her eyes but she had to move. 

She was looking for Uhtred’s children, and for Ealhswith, hoping that they were safe.

“Are you a warrior now, girl?”

Lucia spun on her heel, and she could feel her heart drop into her belly as she came face to face with the man who had been the subject of many of her nightmares. He watched her closely as he took long strides toward her, and that smile that had haunted her for so long was mangled now, a jagged and thick scar from his ear to his lips causing the corner of his mouth to hitch in an unnatural way.

“Are you going to fight me?” Oluf continued, hitching his brow as he eyed her sword.

Lucia’s jaw clenched as she willed herself to move, but her legs had betrayed her, much like they had when he first discovered her in Elentone. She could feel his hot breath against her skin as he came closer still. She gripped at the hilt of her sword so tightly her knuckles turned white. 

“Speak-” he bit the word out slowly, taunting her, his hand pushing against her chest. 

She stumbled backwards, and nearly fell as her feet tangled with the legs of a body but she steadied herself and finally brought her sword up. 

She would not let him scare her any longer.

“You failed once before,” she breathed. “You will again-”

He let out a ferocious growl as he raised his sword and attacked, the intensity in which he moved knocking her backwards as she rose to meet his swing. She struggled, his body stronger than hers by far, but she was trying to drum up as much force as she could, and with a yell of her own, drew him back. She thrust her sword at him but missed.

He grinned and there was a wicked flash of joy across his face. 

He was enjoying this.

He came at her again and she managed to parry his attack but it was all she could do to hold her position in the dirt, digging her feet into the ground. With a desperate attempt to gain the upper hand, and using what she could against a man twice her size, she swung her leg up and kneed him right in the groin.

He doubled over with a groan, momentarily distracted by the pain and it gave Lucia the opportunity to strike. But even as he was hunched over, he was able to parry her swing, gritting his teeth as his eyes darkened. Any enjoyment he felt before seemed to turn to anger and she knew she had made a mistake.

Oluf lunged at her, his hand grabbing at her waist and without much effort, knocked her to the ground. She landed hard on her spine, her breath catching in her throat as she dropped her sword. And suddenly he was on her, holding her down as he laughed in her face.

“I will have fun with you,” he said, his voice rough.

His hands moved to grasp at her neck and she gasped. She struggled against him, her hands pushing at him but he would not budge and his grip was tightening. She kept shoving at him, trying to find a weak spot, before she felt something pushing into her thigh- the saex. She fumbled as she tried to pull it from its scabbard and just as she was beginning to lose her breath she freed the blade and pushed it deep into Oluf’s gut.

The Dane went wide-eyed and his grip loosened on her throat. She thrust the saex in harder, twisting the blade and using the force of it to push him back. He rolled to his side, a catch of a groan in his throat as Lucia finally freed herself. 

She rested on her knees, her hand reaching to her throat as she tried to catch her breath. But she knew she did not have time on her side, and she needed to retrieve her weapons. She crouched over him, watching as his eyes rolled backward and it was as if she could see the life leaving him as she pulled the blade back. Her hand was covered in his blood and the sight of it turned her stomach.

She scrambled for her sword and kept both weapons at the ready as she got to her feet. 

Her head was pounding but she had not been able to reach the Main Hall and she knew she had to see if Ama and the children were alright. She stepped over Oluf’s body and realized his sword was on the ground beside him but not in his hand.

“No Valhalla for you,” she muttered without another look back. 

Suddenly, there was a wild scream and Lucia watched in awe as a blood stained Sister Adallinda came barreling at a Dane, an axe in her hand. She swung in a frenzy, catching him in the chest. She knocked him backward before plucking the axe out of his body and running forward, searching for another target. 

She didn’t have time to process the sheer insanity of what she had just seen as her eyes finally caught sight of the Main Hall, her chest feeling tight as she realized the doors were knocked in. She ran as quickly as she could, hoping that she would not be too late, but fearing the worst when she saw the way the furniture was overturned, the tapestry that was ripped in two as it hung lamely from the loft, and the dagger stuck into the wall.

There was shouting coming from the back bedroom and Lucia said a small prayer as she followed the sounds, hoping that she was not too late.

“Get out of the way, nun-”

A Dane had his back to Lucia and she could see just beyond him stood Hild, the axe in her hand as she held back Young Uhtred and Stiorra. Ama was crying quietly behind her, clutching Osbert to her chest. 

“You will kill me before you touch them,” Hild said and Lucia could see the trickle of blood at the crown of her friend’s head. “You will not take these children-”

“I was gonna take you too,” the Dane said with a wicked laugh as he stepped forward. “But I will kill you if that’s what you want.”

In a panic, Lucia stepped into Hild’s line of sight and her eyes connected with the abbess. Hild nodded and Lucia cried out, “Hey-  _ amove te!” _

It was just the distraction they needed, the Dane turning around with a look of annoyance on his face as he found Lucia at the ready. But before he could take a step forward, Hild plunged the axe into his back and pushed hard. He stumbled, his weight pulling him forward and as blood gurgled in his mouth, he fell to his knees and landed face down upon the floor.

Hild turned back to the children and scooped Stiorra into her arms. 

“We must move, little ones,” she said, before she spared Lucia a glance. “Behind the nunnery- there is a door through the wall into the woods- if we can get there-”

“I will cover you,” Lucia said.

They hurried from the Main Hall, Ama trying her best to stifle her sobs as they moved, young Uhtred holding her hand to soothe her. Lucia led the way, still clutching at both her sword and her saex, trying to ignore the sticky red blood that clung to both weapons. She coughed as they reached the outside and the smoke hit them all once again. 

The sight before them was mayhem, too many Danes still standing and still fighting. She felt they were innumerable, seeing too many bodies she recognized on the ground before her. She blinked, her eyes itching fiercely as they braved the courtyard and tried to make their way without being noticed. 

But if they were here for slaves as Lucia feared, their group would only attract the Danes more. 

“Papa!”

Stiorra squirmed in Hild’s arms and Lucia furrowed her brow in confusion. 

“Stiorra, your father is not-” Hild began.

But the smoke shifted in the wind and suddenly she could see them- Uhtred and Finan were barreling through the broken gates with their swords at the ready, Osferth and Sihtric and Beocca behind them. Lucia made a strangled gasp as she watched the men descend upon the Danes, cutting through them with a strength that left her breathless. The rest of the guard was following through, some looking worse for the wear and Lucia could not understand what had happened but she was grateful that they were finally here. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND IT'S HAPPENING! Just good, random chaos. I hope you guys like this one! Thank you so much for continuing to read! ❤️
> 
> Latin lesson: "amove te!" means "get the hell out of here!"


	17. go ahead, you're taking me down now

“Hild, we must run-”

Lucia’s command was rough, her voice beginning to ache from the smoke wafting into her lungs. It was hard to decipher that it was truly the morning, the sky feeling dark and gray as the fires continued to rage on. She swallowed, her eyes still focused on the arrival of the guard, pleading for Finan to catch her gaze if only to convince her they were really here- that Coccham was not yet done for. But he was already in combat, back to back with Sihtric as they traded blows with the raiders. 

And she didn’t have the time to linger, knowing that there was precious cargo behind her.

“Come, Ama, hurry,” Hild urged as she adjusted Stiorra on her hip.

The group of them tore away from the Main Hall, young Uhtred holding tight to his nursemaid’s arm as she cradled Osbert to her chest, trying her best to prevent the toddler from seeing too much of the fighting. Stiorra was pleading for her father, her tiny voice mangled with sobs as Hild held her closely.

As they rounded a corner, a Dane fell at Lucia’s feet, blood spilling from his throat. 

It was Ursula, the barmaid, pulling her blade back from the Dane with a gasp of breath. It was a practiced move. She was covered in blood and dirt and her eyes widened when she saw them. Lucia grimaced at the sight of the dead Dane but if Ursula could hold her own here, perhaps she could lead the children to safety. They were not far from Sihtric and Ealhswith’s home- if Lucia could at least see if they were still there-

“Ursula, can you take them to the back gate?” Lucia asked. “I must find Ealhswith-”

The abbess and the barmaid exchanged glances, something passing between them unspoken. But a nod followed from the redhead and Lucia felt a swell of affection for the woman, a grateful smile tugging at her lips as she let her eyes travel over the children, knowing that if anything happened to them she would never forgive herself. 

“Be careful,” Hild stressed, and she reached for Lucia’s arm. “Please-”

“You too,” she replied and her brow furrowed as she gestured down the path with her sword arm. “Now go, hurry-”

The path to the cottage that belonged to Sihtric and Ealhswith was back toward the courtyard, and Lucia was quick in her pursuit, trying not to engage with any more Danes as she hoped to find her friend alive and well. She made a small blessing when she saw that the house was intact, the door still hanging, the shutters not broken. She could not say the same for a few others, cringing at the smoke rising from the thatched roofs. 

“Lucia?”

The voice was a whisper among the chaos, coming from a small alley between two cottages. Her eyes kept steady on the fighting as she followed the sound, careful not to draw any attention to herself. But she had recognized the woman it belonged to and relief lifted in her shoulders when she spotted Ealhswith crouched on the ground, Revna strapped to her chest and Tore huddled close to his mother. 

“Ealhswith, thank God-” she breathed, sheathing her saex as she came closer toward them. “Are you alright? Is anyone hurt?”

“We are unharmed,” Ealhswith said but there was a pained expression on her face. “But we are trapped and I have no way to protect us-”

“There is a way out, behind the nunnery,” she replied. “I can get you there.”

The other woman hesitated for a moment, and Lucia could see the fear in her friend’s face, weighing whether to move or not from their hiding spot. But with one glance to her son, she nodded and helped the boy rise to his feet before doing the same. Lucia reached for her and helped to steady Ealhswith as she stood. 

“Our men are here,” Lucia said quietly once they were all upright, and she tried to relay some hope to Ealhswith with a small smile. “I pray we are at the end of this-”

“Let us hurry, then,” Ealhswith said. 

Instead of going back toward the courtyard, they kept moving down the alley to a quieter part of Coccham, hoping that the alternative route would keep them out of harm’s way. She kept her sword drawn and her other hand holding on to Tore’s as they carefully crept around the edge of the cottage and into a clearing. The nunnery was not much farther, Lucia spying the crudely crafted cross at the top of the chapel just around the bend. 

“Where do you think you’re going?”

The voice sounded much like the one she heard earlier, and she gulped as she turned and saw the man from before with the beads in his beard. He stood only a few paces away from them and there was something profane behind his bright eyes. He held his axe on his shoulder, an alarmingly casual stance considering the circumstances. 

Three more Danes stood behind him, all of them with their various weapons at the ready. There was a sick kind of satisfaction that glimmered on their faces as their eyes landed on Lucia and Ealhswith and the children with them. They were exactly what the raiders were looking for. 

“Why don’t you lovelies come with us?” he continued. 

A panic set into Lucia, her heartbeat frenzied in her chest as she realized the path before her. She could not let anything happen to these children, she could not let them suffer the same fate she had. She gripped at the hilt of her sword and pushed Tore behind her, closer to his mother. She blinked back itchy tears as she took a step forward.

“Ealhswith, run,” Lucia said through grit teeth as she pulled her saex from her belt once more. “I will distract them-”

“Don’t be stupid,” Ealhswith pleaded. “There are too many of them, I’ll not leave you alone-”

“She’s not alone-”

_ Finan. _

Just the sound of his voice lifted her spirits, Lucia’s shoulders straightening as she watched him join her in the clearing, Osferth following closely behind him. He was careful to offer further protection to Ealhswith and the children, his eyes briefly dropping to Tore to give the boy a reassuring wink before he let his eyes finally reach Lucia’s. His skin was marked with a mixture of soot and dirt and blood but there was a light behind his eyes that spread a relief through her skin. She wiped at her cheek with the back of her hand as she thanked God that she would not have to do this alone. Finan had found her, and he was here-

“M’lady,” Osferth greeted gently as he came up on her other side. “May we join you?”

“Please,” she said with relief. 

“Uhtred’s pretty boys,” the Dane teased. “Did you think we would let you ambush us?”

“Ya only just delayed yer inevitable death, Haesten, ya stupid bastard,” Finan barked.

“Now, now-” Haesten replied with a chuckle. “Let us take our prizes and we shall be square.”

“Perhaps we can just fight now?” Osferth offered.

“Indeed, baby monk,” Finan grinned.

The attacks were swift, the Danes moving recklessly toward the group, and it was with a final urging from Lucia that Ealhswith grabbed Tore by the hand and fled toward the nunnery. A tall and rather gangly Dane followed after her, his wild black hair matching the charcoal smudges down his face. But as he lunged at her, Lucia cut him off and the tip of his saex sliced against her arm. It was a prickly kind of pain and she let out a hiss as she swung her sword in his direction, the Dane parrying against her with ease. 

He blocked every hit and she grew frustrated, her body aching as she moved to attack again. When he parried the hit, she let out a yell and without thinking, bashed in his knee with the bottom of her boot. 

There was a sickening crunch and a shout and as the Dane was toppling over, she brought her saex against his throat. It all happened so fast and as she watched the man clutch at his neck, it pained her to see the way he suffered, a chill rushing through her body as he sank to the ground. The weight of a warrior was far too much for her, she realized. But here, now, what choice did she have?

Another Dane dropped at Osferth’s feet, the monk breathing heavily as he wiped the blood from his staff against his robes. Lucia and Osferth shared a brief glance of relief before another Dane fell into their vision, stumbling backwards as Finan lunged at him with his sword, the Irishman overpowering the raider easily with his sword skill. 

As Finan sliced his blade across the man’s chest, Lucia realized that in all the flurry of fighting, Haesten was no longer in the fray. She found him scrambling back toward the courtyard, perhaps in an effort to flee. But Finan tore after him and it was all Osferth and Lucia could do to follow.

“Bleatin’ coward,” she could hear Finan mutter under his breath.

Haesten stumbled into the square just as Uhtred pulled his blade from another Dane’s chest. She had never seen such a violence in his eyes before, it was a hunger that rippled through him as he set his gaze upon the man who seemed to start this all. There was an attempt at laughter, a nervous reaction from Haesten as Uhtred stalked toward him and the Dane whistled for his men to defend him. 

And Lucia found herself, once again, in the throws of an attack. 

A Dane with two blades came at her in a furry, moving swiftly and she tried to jump back and away from his quickly moving hands. She needed to gain some space between them before she drew her sword. But her first attack was blocked with a strength that caused her to stumble. She tried to regain her balance, and in her efforts scraped his arm with her saex as she found her footing. It was sloppy and she was growing exhausted but a hit was a hit.

Still, it only seemed to irritate him further. He growled and moved to swing but in a flash Finan was there standing before her and the Dane was on the ground.

There were sounds of victory rising through the village and Lucia sucked in a breath. 

Was it finally over?

Finan spared her a glance, and she could see the worry in his eyes as they traveled over her body, seemingly inspecting her for injuries. But it was Finan she needed to be worried about, she realized, as she noticed the darkening on his tunic and the tear in his armor. His gaze seemed to follow hers and with an unsteady hand, he gripped at his side. Blood came away in his palm and his brow furrowed in confusion. 

His lips parted as if he were about to speak but suddenly he was on his knees, his sword falling to the ground, and Lucia was screaming his name as she rushed to catch him.

“No, no, no, no-”

The word did not stop as she clung to him, her hand pressing against his wound as she cradled him in her lap, Finan’s body feeling heavy against hers. She heard a vicious yell from somewhere behind her but she could not tear her eyes from him, studying his features as he stared back at her, eyes still bewildered by what had happened. 

“You’re alright,” she whispered, nodding her head. “You’re going to be alright-”

He said nothing, only reaching to graze her cheek with the back of his hand.

She swallowed, her hand shaking as she tried to stop the bleeding. But there was just so much-

“Help! Please, someone-”

Her throat was sore and tired but she could not lift him on her own, try as she might, so she continued to shout above the fray and hoped someone would find them among the rest of the bodies that littered the ground. 

“ _ Finan? _ ”

It was a strangled sound as Sihtric spotted them, the Dane gesturing to someone Lucia could not see through the smoke. Beocca broke through the crowd to help him as they crouched to lift Finan from her lap, the priest muttering a quiet prayer under his breath. It seemed time began to slow as she watched them balance him between their shoulders, a moment of uncertainty as they tried to figure out where to take him. But Uhtred was running from across the courtyard, pointing toward the Main Hall as he shouted for a Healer. 

She did not stand immediately, her body hesitant to move, as she stared down at her hands, her skin stained with so much blood it was like a catalog of the destruction the day brought. 

And they would not stop shaking.

Uhtred turned back toward her and his strong hands lifted her to her feet, his eyes searching hers as his hands rested on her shoulders. She could not muster more than a stare as her chin began to tremble and he cursed before he ran off after the men, after Finan. She blinked and Osferth was rushing toward her, grabbing at her wrists to calm her as she began to cry.

_ I did this. _

She broke from his grasp and wiped at the tears, furious with herself as she turned away from him, her feet carrying her toward the Main Hall. She could hear Osferth calling after her but she kept moving. 

It was a frenzied state as they reached the inside, Uhtred commanding they bring Finan upstairs to the loft, and Osferth running off to fetch Mathilda with instructions from Sihtric to return with fresh water and clean linens. When Lucia asked what she could do to help, Sihtric was quiet as he said, “Just be here.”

They were gentle with him as they lay him on the bed, Sihtric pulling back the blankets in order to better tend to his friend while Beocca fussed with the pillows. He had been conscious when he first fell but now, there was a quiet to him that scared Lucia and she hovered at the foot of the bed, watching as the blood from his wound stained the sheets.

A hand grabbed at her wrist and she turned to see Uhtred, panic lingering behind his eyes.

“My children? Do you know if-”

“In the woods,” she said quietly. “Behind the nunnery- they are with Hild and Ama.”

“You are sure?”

“Ursula took them,” she confirmed before turning to Sihtric. “Ealhswith, too. They're safe.”

The Dane looked up from his work at undoing Finan’s armor, his hands catching at the ties when he heard his wife’s name. He looked to his Lord with a quiet pleading and Uhtred nodded, relief on both their faces. 

“Go on,” Uhtred said.

Sihtric did not need to be told twice, the Dane rushing from the loft and down the stairs.

“Lucia,” Beocca called gently as he resumed Sihtric’s task. “If you can-”

She was grateful for something to do as they waited for Mathilda to arrive and she rushed to his bedside. They had to be careful as they shifted him to remove the leather cuirass from his upper body and his belt from his waist. The tunic Finan wore underneath clung to his skin with a mixture of sweat and blood, the light fabric darkening at his wound to a deep shade of red. She worked deftly at his wrist guards and his fingers twitched underneath her touch. 

She sucked in a breath, hoping there would be something more but he did not open his eyes. She sniffled, trying to hold the tears at bay, not needing to cry all over him as he lay here, but it was growing harder and harder not to. 

“Keep that bowl beside the bed, boy, and do exactly what I tell you to-”

There seemed to be a collective sigh of relief as Mathilda ascended the stairs with Osferth in tow and Lucia could not help but notice the smears of blood on the woman’s cheeks as she came into view. No one was untouched in this battle, it seemed. 

“Get everything off him,” the Healer continued. 

While Beocca helped Lucia strip Finan of his tunic, Uhtred made quiet work of unlacing his boots. She watched him, brow furrowed, marveling at how delicate he was with the task. He seemed to sense her stare and he lifted his eyes to meet hers and she could see the way his eyes shone with tears. He quickly averted his gaze before stepping back once his job was complete, his hands hanging awkwardly at his sides as he watched Mathilda get to work. 

“I need you all gone,” Mathilda said, though there was a softness to her tone. “Just the monk here to help-”

“Mathilda, you can’t,” Lucia said, exasperated. “I cannot leave him-”

“Gut wounds are a dirty business, girl,” she said, shaking her head. “I will need concentration.”

Beocca nodded and he carefully wrapped his arm around Lucia’s shoulder, telling her it was best to leave Mathilda to her work, that it was best for Finan. Beocca called quietly for Uhtred to follow but he did not move from the edge of the bed, not quite ready to descend the stairs. But after a long gaze at his oathman, his fingers grazing against the sheets, Uhtred turned and followed them. 

“He will survive?” she could hear him ask.

But there was no answer from Mathilda. 

\--

“Lucia?”

“Lady, you’ve been wounded-”

“Perhaps she’s in shock?”

She blinked and her vision started to clear. Lucia hadn’t known how long she had been staring off, and felt her skin flush with heat as she noticed Beocca and Hild looking at her with concern. She averted their gaze, her own eyes settling on her hands in her lap, still dirty with blood and she itched for a wet rag to rinse it from her skin.

“Where is he?” she asked softly.

“Resting now,” Hild said, and the abbess crouched down to meet her eyes. “Lucia, you need to see a Healer, you’re-”

“I’m alright,” Lucia shook her head. “It’s only a scratch- Can I please see him?”

Hild did not reply, instead pressing her lips together as she rose back to her feet. Lucia watched as the abbess whispered something to Beocca, the priest’s brow furrowing as he shook his head. He looked up to meet Lucia’s eyes and she did not know if that was pity or trepidation she saw lingering behind his stare. But he took a step forward all the same, his hand extended toward her.

“I’ll take you,” Beocca said and his features softened. “But only if you promise me that I can tend to your arm while we’re upstairs.”

She nodded and with unsteady legs, Lucia rose from her seat, thankful for Beocca’s grasp as she tried to stand. The adrenaline from the morning had not only worn off, it seemed to take so much of the rest of her with it, her body aching in areas she didn't know existed. Before Beocca could lead her toward the loft, the abbess was wrapping her arms around her and giving her a tight squeeze. 

“It is my turn to be thankful,” Hild said softly. “You allowed me to survive today-”

“I think your axe would have gotten the better of that man regardless,” Lucia offered as she leaned into the hug, wrapping her arms back around the abbess. “You are as fearsome as Uhtred says.”

“I will come and check on you later,” she replied. “There is someone I must tend to, myself.”

Although the Main Hall had seen its fair share of the chaos, it was still the only place large enough to tend to the wounded, villagers and men of the guard all lingering around them as the few Healers they had tended to their cuts and scrapes. She watched in quiet wonder as Hild crossed the room to where Ursula sat, a makeshift sling wrapped around her left arm, tucking it closely to her chest. The abbess sat beside her and there was something about the smile on Ursula’s face that caused Lucia to look to Beocca.

The priest only shrugged before he nodded his head and led her up the stairs. 

She did not know if the silence was a good or bad sign, but she knew it made her feel nervous as they reached the top of the staircase. In the time that Mathilda spent with Finan, Sihtric had returned, and for the second time in only a few moments, Lucia was wrapped in a surprising hug. It caught her off guard and she gasped as the Dane nearly lifted her from the ground.

“Ealhswith told me what you did,” he said as he released her. “I will never forget.”

“If it were not for Osferth and Finan, I’m afraid it would have been a rather different outcome.”

Sihtric huffed a breath as he shook his head, his hand still squeezing at her shoulder. “You have the heart of a warrior.”

“She’s been told,” Mathilda said as she approached, a bloodied rag in the woman’s hands. “You and I need to talk, Lucia. Before you see him-” 

“Mathilda, be gentle,” Beocca warned.

“This is battle,” Mathilda said with narrowed eyes. “Now come, girl.”

She spared the men behind her one last glance before she followed Mathilda back toward Uhtred’s bed, spotting Osferth out of her corner of her eye as he piled bloodied rags into his arms. The curtains were now drawn, the thick linen betraying nothing of the condition of the man that lay there and with every step closer she felt her heart grow heavier. She stopped just short of the bed, her feet unwilling to move until she knew.

“He is resting, right?” she asked, her voice shaking. “He will recover?”

“Lucia-”

“Please,” she continued, eyes pleading with the Healer for some confirmation. “I will not lose him, Mathilda. I cannot. Please- promise he will survive this-”

The Healer took Lucia’s hands in her own and squeezed them gently.

“I cannot make you that promise, child,” Mathilda replied. “Your Irishman is tough but he is with fever and without much color. I will do everything I can to get him through the night but a promise could only disappoint.”

Lucia blinked back hot tears, a grimace forming as she tried to process what Mathilda was saying. She would not accept it, could not fathom waking up the next morning without Finan in her life. She shook her head, pulling her hands from the Healer, desperate to be beside him.

But as her hand reached for the curtain, she found it was trembling. 

_ I did this. _

She pushed the curtain back and hooked it against the bedpost before gently sitting on the edge of the mattress beside him. He was sleeping, but that peaceful Finan she was so used to seeing in sleep was not there. There was a pain in his features, something tense in him as he lay there. And Mathilda was right, he was as pale as a ghost, his bare chest rising and falling under the blankets bundled around him.

She took his hand in her own and cradled it in her lap as she reached to brush back his hair, her fingers sensing the heat under his skin. 

_ I did this. _

She could not remember how the battle ended, or if Haesten got the punishment he deserved for all the horror he caused. She just knew it was over and that Coccham was somehow still standing.

But it was not fair because Finan was not. 

“Here,” Mathilda said as she handed her a warm wet rag. “Clean yourself and get your arm stitched. I won’t have you bleeding all over him.”

\--

“How is he?”

Lucia stirred, startled by the voice, unsure of how long she had been asleep or how long she had been by Finan’s side, or why this day felt like she was just crawling in and out of consciousness. She shifted in the chair, stretching her legs as her joints cracked, body stiff from the way she had been curled up. She rubbed at her face with her hands before bringing them back through her hair, twisting to see the man the voice belonged to. 

Uhtred lingered at the top of the staircase, hand gripping at the banister. He seemed hesitant, unsure of whether or not to step further into the room. He had rinsed, his armor gone and she noticed a fresh bandage wrapped around his forearm. It was similar to the one around her bicep, skin sore from where a gash had been stitched. His eyes did not move from where Finan lay. 

She followed his gaze back to her Irishman, her hand reaching for his, finding his skin clammy, but still warm. Her thumb rubbed against his knuckles absently. 

“He is still with fever,” she said, voice quiet. 

“It will break,” he told her as he took soft steps toward them. “He is too stubborn a bastard to die like this, it is not suited to a warrior-”

Lucia was not sure if he meant that to soothe her or himself but she nodded all the same, thinking that if she believed him enough perhaps it would be true. But she could not shake the look in Mathilda’s eyes when she pleaded with the Healer for Finan’s health, the woman unsure of what more she could do outside of the potions she already tried until the fever broke. 

“I pray that is true,” she replied.

“To who?” Uhtred snapped as he leaned against one of the posts of his bed. “To your God? Would it not be  _ His _ fault Finan lay here to begin with?”

“I will pray to all of them,” Lucia said, exasperated. “It does not matter- as long as he wakes.” 

Uhtred sighed, his hands rubbing at his face as he shifted his stance.

“This day has been a curse,” he said, voice rough. 

“Lord, Haesten wanted what we took from him outside of Elentone,” she began, her voice trembling with shame and guilt. “The villagers we saved- he wanted as many and more. If you had not found me that day-”

“You would be dead and more villages would have fallen,” Uhtred cut her off. “This was not your doing. If we had not found you, my children would have ended up in their own cages.”

She looked up to meet Uhtred’s stare.

“I cannot lose him, Lord.”

“Neither can I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a tough one to write but it felt good to get it done! Thank you so much for continuing to read and leave feedback. 💕


	18. we hold our breath until nothing's left

As the night waned on, the Main Hall descended into a quiet that did little to calm Lucia’s nerves. Chaos was not limited to battle fields but followed into recovery, the building humming with the sounds of reunions and mourning, Healers tending to their wounded, warriors relishing in the moments that brought victory. The noise had been a welcome distraction. But those sounds had settled and the wounded that were brought into the Main Hall had found their comforts and potions and were only left with sleep. But sleep did not come for Lucia, who was still positioned at Finan’s bedside, nor did it come for Uhtred who sat beside her, his eyes closed but his fingers tapping a soundless, restless tune against the arm of the chair. Silence stretched on between them, both enumerated with their own thoughts. And she could not shake the vision of Finan rushing to protect her, watching him fall over and over again. 

“ _In good faith, without deceit, I love the best and most beautiful,_ ” she found herself murmuring, her voice soft. She reached for a fresh linen, letting it sink into the bowl of cold water beside them. Mathilda had given her instruction to keep him cool, to help stave off his fever. “ _My heart sighs, my eyes weep, because I love him so much and I suffer for it-”_

She wrung the fabric in her hands before folding it neatly and resting it on Finan’s forehead, her fingers brushing gently against his hairline, combing his naturally unruly hair back, the cowlicks that went wild with sleep drawing a smile to her lips. 

“ _What else can I do, if Love takes hold of me,_ ” she continued her invocation, as she adjusted the sheet covering his torso, briefly taking hold of the cross hanging from his neck, thumb grazing against the intricate design. “ _This love wounds my heart with a sweet taste, so gently, I die of grief a hundred times a day and a hundred times revive with joy-_ ”

She adjusted his cross to lay flat, before she let her palm rest against his chest. The steady thumping of his heart gave her relief. “ _This pain seems beautiful, worth more than any pleasure- How good will be the good when this suffering is done?”_

But her question went unanswered, her creed met with silence as her Irishman still lay sleeping beneath her. She sighed, brow furrowing as she watched him, watched the way his breath hitched with every rise of his chest. It seemed a laborious task for his body and she blinked back tears as she wondered what would come in the morning. 

She turned her head to wipe at her eyes and caught Uhtred watching her curiously.

“Was that your prayer?” he asked quietly.

“A poem,” she replied, wiping her hands on her trousers. “I thought it beautiful and maddening when I discovered it but I’ve never felt it so truly before now-”

“You do not wish to seek salvation from your God?” he asked, with the hitch of an eyebrow.

She let out a huff of breath as her shoulders sagged. “I wish to follow Mathilda’s orders and tend to him. I am too angry, Lord, there is too much guilt- and perhaps you were right, perhaps He willed it- and how could I reconcile that?”

A laugh passed through his lips, a bitter sound, as he leaned back in his chair. Lucia watched as his eyes shifted, focusing on something unknown as his jaw set. 

“You feel guilt,” he said, turning back toward her as the word settled. “Why?”

“I was no match for the Dane who attacked me,” she said, hands wringing against her lap. “And Finan- he saved my life. This wound in his belly was meant for me-” 

“And you think it would be better if it were you in this bed?” he asked, voice rough. “With Finan watching over you instead? Out of his mind and wild with worry?”

His words felt like a slap and shame settled into her skin, Lucia finding it difficult to meet his gaze. She reached again for Finan’s hand, desperate to hold on to him, to tether him to her in any way she could. They had only just found each other. She could not fathom why this became their burden now. 

“Finan made his choice,” Uhtred continued. “And it would be his choice one thousand times over, because that is the man he is. It is the warrior in him. Accept it or wallow- that is _your_ choice.”

She knew the truth in Uhtred’s words but it did not make her choice any easier, Lucia still clinging to her guilt, and the small part of her that knew that if Finan were to survive, this might not be the last time he would worry her in this way. Was she prepared for that? Was she ready to risk him every time he rode through those gates? 

She found Uhtred looking to her expectantly when she finally met his eyes. But she was not ready to answer his question and she had one of her own, many actually, weighing on her mind since she saw the Danes rounding the hill before Coccham and setting everything aflame.

“How did you know to return?” she asked.

“We found only a handful of men,” he said, something flickering behind his eyes, a shame of his own that brought a pain to her chest. “It was too early in our ride to make sense. But Haesten is a spy by trade- and he used mine against me.”

“Edric turned?” 

“He knew nothing of it,” Uhtred sighed, rubbing at his chin. “They were tricked. We all were.”

“Where is Haesten now?” 

“Running back to Cnut with his tail between his legs,” he said, voice thick. “I should have killed him, I should have stuck his head on a pike and left it outside as a warning-”

“Will they come back?” Lucia could not help the fear that seeped into her question. “Will they attack again?”

“I have sent word to an old friend,” he said, with a shake of his head. “I believe she will keep Haesten in line. For now.”

But he did not seem confident in his words, Uhtred sighing as he brought himself to his feet. There was a weariness in him, an exhaustion in his movements. Lucia did not think the man had slept in the last two days, with two battles fought since his last rise from bed. She reached for him, her hand grasping at his.

“You need rest,” she told him, head tilting back to meet his eyes. “You will be no good to him when he wakes if you are dazed from lack of sleep.”

His eyes lingered on their hands. “And if he does not wake?” 

“He will.” 

Lucia would no longer entertain any other thought. 

She could not.

It felt an eternity since they carried Finan in from the courtyard, and she could feel the air begin to shift as they inched closer to the morning. Not much had changed since Mathilda stitched his wound. She had come and gone more than once, a fresh bowl of cold water to help with the fever, an herbal remedy for his wound and something resembling porridge for both Lucia and Uhtred to eat since they would not come down for dinner. 

Neither were willing to leave him. How could they?

The bond Uhtred and Finan shared was tenable, unbreakable, a bond of brothers and warriors. She could sense it that night in the woods in their quiet glances, their history aboard the slave ship rumbling through their memories as Lucia spoke of her own trauma. But more than that, they’d lived years side by side protecting each other, building a family among the rest of the men. A family they had readily accepted her into, without thought, without pretense. And Finan had ignited something fierce within her, like he discovered a part of her she was worried was lost to the waters that brought her to Wessex. He had become her home.

It was as if he was gifted to them both, a soulmate they could share. 

Neither could imagine not being there when he finally woke.

\--

Lucia was somewhere between asleep and awake, her legs curled beneath her body as she sat in the cushy chair pulled up alongside the bed. Her elbow kept knocking off the arm of the chair, her head heavy as her body tried to lull her to sleep. But she would blink, shake her head, do whatever she could to keep the vigil she had started, afraid of what could happen if she drifted off. 

There was soft snoring from the floor, Uhtred sprawled out on a bedroll beside her. She had all but forced him to rest, worried that he would be without his wits if he did not get some semblance of sleep. She had noticed a tension seeping into his skin well before this battle took place and she could only imagine the torment he was facing now. She let her eyes linger on his sleeping form, taking note of the fresh cuts that would soon add to the litany of scars he already bore.

These men held too many marks among them, too many wounds.

A yawn passed through her lips and Lucia realized the morning had crept upon her, light beginning to stream through the windows. She shifted, letting her feet sink to the floor as she leaned forward, reaching again for Finan’s hand. She bowed her head as she brought his knuckles to her lips and she pressed a light kiss upon them, thankful to see the steady rise of his chest.

Mathilda had not been certain he would last the night. 

And yet he was still here, unconscious but alive. 

“Tell me you slept,” a soft voice said sternly.

Lucia lifted her head to see Hild at the top of the staircase, no longer wearing her armor but back in her nun’s robes, her wooden cross hanging dutifully around her neck. She carried a basket in both hands, and there was a peek of a loaf of bread sticking out from underneath a linen napkin, freshly baked and filling the room with a delightful aroma. She offered Lucia a worried glance as she stepped inside the loft, placing the basket on a small table beside the bed.

“Well, I cannot lie to a woman of God,” Lucia said sheepishly. 

Hild sighed but did not admonish her, instead hovering at the opposite side of the bed, taking Finan’s other hand in her own and saying a small, silent prayer. She watched, feeling a pang of jealousy that Hild could still find faith enough in God at this moment when it was so far from Lucia’s own feelings.

“How is he?” 

“Still here,” she replied, her gaze drifting to Finan. She let the back of her hand rest against his forehead. “His fever seems to be breaking but- he is not yet awake-”

“He will,” Hild assured, offering Lucia a small smile. “He is much too stubborn and thank God he seems to have gotten through the worst of it now-”

“Stubborn,” she repeated with a huff of breath, shaking her head. “Uhtred said the same-”

“It’s because it's true,” the abbess said with a knowing glance. “We have fought together countless times and I feel certain that this is not his end.”

Lucia brushed her hands back through her hair, her curls feeling like a lion’s mane as she tugged at them, letting her hands rest at the nape of her neck as she took a deep breath. Perhaps her exhaustion was getting to her now because she found it hard to will back the tears that were dangerously close to forming. She blinked before squeezing her eyes shut. She felt in battle with herself, between fearing the worst and hopeful for the best.

“I am hopeful,” she said after a moment, making the choice. “I must be.”

“It is all we have,” Hild said before something seemed to register and she took a slow glance around the loft as if she was searching for something. “Where is Lord Uhtred?”

“I am here, Hild,” came a sleepy voice. 

He lifted his arm up from where he lay, wriggling his fingers just above the rise of the mattress. Hild gave a short nod and a soft, “Ah,” before she rounded the bed to find him. Lucia had not realized he was awake and shifted to offer him a small smile. It took him a moment but he returned the gesture with a nod. It had been tense between them, the night watch they embarked on bringing out fear and anger in both of them. 

And she could not help but worry that his opinion of her had changed.

“Oh, you look horrible,” Hild exclaimed as she stared down at him. “Both of you do, honestly. Like two ghosts haunting this place-”

“Good morning to you, too,” Uhtred replied before he moved to a sitting position, a slight wince passing through his lips as he rested his back against the bed frame. “Come sit.”

The abbess let out a deep sigh as she considered his invitation. It was with a brief glance to Lucia that Hild took a seat beside him on the floor, Uhtred shifting over to make room for her on his bedroll. They looked at each other with quiet affection, a whole conversation seemingly happening in a single glance, before Uhtred rest his head against her shoulder, and took her hands in his own. 

“Do we have our count?” he asked.

“Nearly, Lord,” Hild said. “Father Beocca is preparing the chapel, and those who are able are readying the graveyard. But we have been fortunate in our numbers- I do not suppose Haesten and his men expected those of us remaining to counter their attack-”

“We should not have lost any-” he cut in, and Lucia could sense a break in his voice. 

“The men and women we bury fought to protect our home,” the abbess said carefully. “And they did so to the very last breath, I assure you that, Uhtred.”

“Hild is right, Lord,” Lucia said. “As the Danes were nearing, there was a crowd ready to protect our walls- no one tried to flee, even Sister Adallinda got her hands on an axe somehow-”

“The sisters have their own weapons,” Hild mused with a sparkle behind her eye as she spared Lucia a glance. “They are my novices, after all.”

“I will visit with their families,” Uhtred said, blinking his eyes shut. “Each and every one of them will receive my gratitude for protecting Coccham.”

“That will take energy, Lord. Which means you must eat,” Hild directed before she pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I brought fresh bread and apples. You too, Lucia. Though, I dare say you ought to rest once Mathilda gets here.”

Lucia sighed, sinking back into her chair as she watched Hild rise to her feet with purpose. There was a moment, again, where Lucia spied a bit of her mother in her movements and it brought a smile to her lips. Especially when the abbess held her hand out for Uhtred to grab, an expectant look on her face.

“You will feel much better with a full belly,” Hild said.

“What would I do without you, Hild,” Uhtred sighed as he rose to his feet, his hand gripping at hers. He pulled her close to him and wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her into a hug that seemed to settle him. 

“You will never have to wonder, Lord,” Hild smiled as she hugged him back. 

\--

Much to Hild’s chagrin, Lucia did not rest. 

The loft was bustling with movement, Hild helping Uhtred draft a letter to Edward while Mathilda was back at Finan’s bedside, with Osferth in tow. It was not that the monk was particularly skilled at Healing- that was something Sihtric tended to while the men traveled, but he was measured and calm and did not mind being bossed around by more aggressive personalities. 

He had much practice with Uhtred and Finan and Sihtric.

“No more fever,” Mathilda noted, eyes flickering to Lucia briefly. “You did well, girl.”

Lucia lifted her shoulders in a half sort of shrug as she stood, legs no longer fit for sitting, her body stiff from the long hours perched beside him. She could not take much credit, she knew. Mathilda had done most of the work, after all. Still, she offered the woman a tepid smile, hopeful that a more positive prognosis would follow.

“Monk, fetch me the bandages in my bag-” 

Lucia lingered against the bed post, hands flexing uselessly at her sides as she looked to Sihtric. He had arrived only a few moments before, and perched himself at the foot of the bed, chewing at his fingers as he watched Mathilda peel back the bandages around Finan’s waist. He was idly playing with the Thor’s hammer around his neck. She nudged him gently.

“Everyone is alright?” she asked. 

“Tore would not let me out of his sight this morning,” he sighed, though there was a softness to it, a smile tugging at his lips. “But they are fine, and safe. Ealhswith feels very grateful to you, Lady. As do I.”

“Ealhswith was quite brave, Sihtric,” Lucia told him. “She would not leave me behind, either.”

His smile widened at her words, a look of pride flashing across his face as he reached for her, his hand clasping around her shoulder and squeezing it gently. She crossed her arm against her chest to rest her hand against his for a brief moment. There was such affection among this group, she had never known so many people to be so openly warm with one another. But it was one of her favorite things about them all. 

“Still looks a bit fresh,” came Mathilda’s voice and both Lucia and Sihtric turned their attention back to Finan. “But we’ve avoided infection for now- can you pass me that bottle? No- the other one- that’s it-”

It was a rather large decanter, the glass such a dark blue that Lucia could not tell what was inside. But the moment Mathilda popped the cork, an odd stench filled the room. She wrinkled her nose as she watched the Healer pour some kind of ooze directly into the wound as Osferth stood by to place a bit of gauze on top. She winced as if she could feel the pain herself as she watched the monk carefully dress the wound.

“Is that onion?” Hild asked with a grimace.

“And honey,” Mathilda nodded. “Smells like death but it does the job of staving it off.”

“Then he will wake?” Uhtred asked, his letter lay forgotten.

“I make no promises,” Mathilda replied carefully. “You will never find a Healer better but even I cannot predict the way a wound like this will heal. It was deep and brought fever- but he is still here after a long night and he is regaining color, so we will let this salve do its work and see where the day leads.”

But the day moved slowly and every hour that passed left Lucia feeling more and more anxious, her body unfettered by any kind of peace. Although she found faith in Mathilda’s abilities and had hope that whatever ointment the Healer used would work, she wasn’t sure she could bring herself to believe it until he woke. Until he could tell them himself what he was feeling. 

The others flitted in and out of the loft throughout the day, other responsibilities bringing them away from Finan’s bedside. Uhtred was still the Ealdorman and the leader of this village and he was due to make appearances to his people, soothe them of their worries of another attack, and thank them for their duties in the battle. His children were eager for him and they latched on to every limb while he made his way to each cottage. Hild and the rest of the women of the nunnery helped Father Beocca prepare for the burials, a sobering thought that left Lucia feeling a sickness in her stomach when she realized Coccham’s little cemetery would more than double in size after what happened the day before. 

Osferth and Sihtric took the lead on preparing for the rebuild, checking in with the remaining guard to see which areas were most crucial- the wall and the gates needing the most attention. It had forced them all to reconsider the village’s original plans, working out ways to enforce their protection and figure out workarounds for those who lived outside the walls- the villagers and farmers that were hit the hardest during the raid, Lucia not sure she would ever forget the sounds of their screams as the horror began.

In the late afternoon, when Lucia realized she had not eaten since the bread Hild brought in the early morning, Osferth had fetched her some stew from the kitchen downstairs. She felt useless and grateful that he took notice. 

He sat beside her quietly while she ate, his eyes keeping careful watch over Finan’s sleeping form, his hands toying with the cross that hung around his neck. “He saved my life once- well, many times now, but I will never forget Beamfleot, when he carried my body from the battlefield. There was mud everywhere- and it was so cold, but he carried me to a tent and he stayed with me- he would not let me go, even when I foolishly thought death was going to take me-”

He chuckled softly.

“He told me he’d kill me himself if I did not survive,” the monk continued fondly.

“And so you did,” she said with a smile.

“I did,” he nodded as he turned toward her, features softening. “Have you had any rest, Lady?” 

“No,” she sighed, pushing the spoon around her empty bowl. “It’s silly, Osferth, that I can lecture Lord Uhtred on proper sleep and yet I am not capable of it myself.”

“They do say it is easier to advise,” he remarked gently.

“I just fear the moment I fall asleep he will be lost to me,” she admitted, setting the wooden bowl on the table beside her. “I have only just found him and already I cannot imagine my life without him.”

“You love him,” Osferth smiled.

“I do,” she told him, drawing her knees to her chest, resting her chin atop them as she wrapped her arms around her shins. “It is a bewildering feeling, and entirely overwhelming. Yet, I would not trade it for anything.”

The monk shifted, raking his fingers through his thick blond hair as he sighed. 

“Lady, I believe I know exactly what it is you are feeling,” he said sheepishly and there was a pink creeping into his skin. “And I think I will take leave for there’s a woman I must talk to-”

“Oh-” was all she could muster as he ambled off, her eyes watching after him in wonder as he made his way down the stairs in a hurry. “Well, that’s curious-” 

And suddenly the loft fell silent once again.

She drew a deep breath, letting it linger in her lungs before she exhaled, her eyes fluttering shut. She knew she would need sleep eventually but for now, she relished in the quiet, for it allowed her to listen to the soft breaths that passed through Finan’s lips with every rise and fall of his chest. 

She moved from the chair to the bed, the mattress shifting beneath her as she tucked one leg under her body. She let her eyes travel over him, studying his form, her fingers brushing gently against his temple before she pressed a kiss to his forehead. His skin felt warm and for a moment she panicked that his fever had returned, but as she drew herself back, she realized the color had started to seep back into his skin. 

“You have scared me enough, Finan,” she said softly. “It is time you wake and return to me.”

She reached for his hand, and clutched it in her own. 

“Because I will not let you go,” she continued, her voice catching. “Please come back to me-”

There was a twitch beneath her palm and suddenly his hand gripped hers back. She stared at it in wonder, eyes blinking back tears, as his thumb grazed gently against her palm.

“I’m here, Lucia,” came a tired and hoarse voice. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That little bit of poetry was written by Bernart de Ventadorn, a French troubadour who wrote really lovely poetry. A bit ahead of the time period but that's what fan fiction is for, eh? 
> 
> And yes! He wakes!! I'm not a monster guys! 😘


	19. oh, you got light in your eyes

“I’m not an invalid ya know-”

“Shall we talk of how long it took you to descend the stairs?”

“Baby monk, I will hit ya.”

“I do not think you’ve the strength yet, but I will keep that in mind.”

The door to the cottage swung open with a bang, and Lucia pressed her lips together into a tight line to prevent herself from laughing any further from the overheard exchange that had drifted in from the open windows. 

She watched as Sihtric helped Finan through the doorway, the Irishman’s arm wrapped around the Dane’s shoulder. Their movements were slow, and careful, and Lucia could sense the unease in every step Finan took. It had been only a day since he woke and he was still coming to terms with the wound in his gut. 

“Lady,” Osferth greeted brightly from behind the pair, armor and mail piled in his arms, Finan’s sword sheathed in his belt. “I warn you- he is rather ornery this morning.”

“I’ll show ya ornery,” Finan grumbled as he shook off Sihtric’s hold, steadying himself against the table, his hand pressed flat against the tabletop. 

“No, you will show us how eager you are to be well,” Sihtric said with a hitched brow. “By climbing into the bed Lucia made up for you, and resting.”

“How much rest do I need?” the Irishman asked, exasperated. “I’ve been in that bed for two days now and there’s work to be done-”

“Not by you,” Lucia said gently as she adjusted her grip on the laundry basket in her arms, her bare feet shifting against the hardwood floors. “You heard Mathilda this morning. It will be at least a fortnight before you can move about freely, and even then you will not be entirely healed.”

A strand of hair came undone from her braid and she blew it back with a huff of breath. She had been busy preparing Finan’s home for his return, a pile of dirty linens in her arms and a streak of flour across her cheek from the loaf she had just finished baking. She had prepared the bed with freshly laundered sheets and strung up bunches of dried wildflowers in the main room, keen on distracting from the shutters that needed repairing and the slightly singed hole in the roof that needed new thatching. 

Still, she considered it rather lucky when she thought of all the damage done by the raid.

“A fortnight,” Finan muttered with a shake of his head. “Jesus- I’m gonna lose my mind-”

“I told you,” Osferth said quietly, nudging Lucia’s side, as Sihtric chuckled.

“I can hear ya,” the Irishman snapped. 

She twisted to offer Osferth an apologetic glance but the monk merely shrugged his shoulders as he unloaded Finan’s things on the table, careful to lay his sword atop his armor. Finan had been lucky in battles past to only suffer small cuts here and there, no wound great enough to tear him down and Osferth had warned her this might be difficult. She had not believed him, thinking of how stern Finan was about her own healing, but clearly he was right. She sighed as she crossed to where he stood, letting the basket rest at her hip as she reached up to clasp her other hand at the crook of his neck, thumb grazing just under the line of his jaw, brushing through his beard. 

“I know this is frustrating,” she said softly, thinking of his words to her only a month ago, the turn of events not lost on her. “But you must rest, my love.”

He leaned into her touch and she could see some of the heat dissipate from behind his eyes.

“Sihtric, Osferth, perhaps you would like to come back for supper later this evening?” she asked as she turned toward the other men. “Finan will be in much better spirits by then, I am certain.” 

Both men nodded and as they made their exit, Finan twisted with a wince.

“Erm- thank ya,” he said sheepishly. “I know I’m a shite patient-”

“Utter shit,” Sihtric said with a grin. “So we will bring plenty of ale when we return.”

“Try not to drive Lucia mad,” Osferth teased with a clasp of his hand against Finan’s shoulder.

The door to the cottage swung shut as they left, leaving Finan and Lucia alone. It was the first time since he woke, the loft a flurry of attention once word spread that he was no longer unconscious. She had stepped back, watched as their friends sat with him and Mathilda prodded until he had fallen asleep again, exhausted from the effort. She slept that night for the first time, curled up in the chair beside him.

But now he reached for her, his hand clutching at her waist, his eyes intent upon her, studying her as if it was the first time he really saw her. 

“Yer hurt-” he said, eyes traveling to her neck.

She blinked, confused, her hand reaching for her throat. The skin felt tender and bruised, and her mind flashed to Oluf above her, hands willing the breath from her body. Her fingers twitched when she remembered the way she twisted the saex into his side. She frowned, shaking the vision from her head as she waved her hand. 

“A minor casualty compared to others,” Lucia dismissed. “I am fine, Finan.”

“Tell me,” he urged, fingers curling in the fabric of her apron. 

“It was the same man from Elentone,” she told him, lifting her chin to meet his gaze. “But it is done, he cannot hurt me ever again. Your saex saw to that.”

He ran his hand across his jaw and his nose flared as he tentatively reached to graze his fingers against the bruising skin at the hollow of her throat, his touch welcome even in the most damaged parts of her. A deep sigh followed and she could see the way his eyes darkened. She offered him a slight half-smile as she tilted her head.

“Will you lay with me?” he asked, voice quiet. 

“Of course,” Lucia replied, with great relief. “You can’t imagine how much I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve an idea,” he huffed and she felt her skin grow warm.

It was not easy to lead him toward the bedroom, Lucia adjusting to his weight against her shoulder as they slowly moved across the floor. But the distance was not far and Lucia was anxious to get him back into bed, though not before she ordered him to undress. She was eager to free him from these clothes, the fabric still smelling of smoke, his trousers stained with blood and dirt.

“This isn’t how I’ve thought of this moment,” he said with a sigh.

Lucia looked up from where she was crouched before him, fingers working deftly at the laces of his boots. She could not help the grin that spread across her face. “Can you lift your tunic yourself?”

“‘Course I can,” he said with a roll of his eyes, but when he lifted his arms up the action came with an effort that made Lucia frown. He did not seek her help, only biting through the pain as he tossed the fabric to the floor with a grimace.

She rose quickly, reaching to steady him as he sucked in a breath, his hand reaching for the wound with a groan. “This fuckin’ thing hurts.”

“Perhaps we will forgo clothing for a little while,” she noted as she turned her attention to the ties of his trousers, and she could feel him twitch slightly beneath her touch. “Until the pain subsides-”

“Yer just gonna keep me in here naked, aren’t ya?” he asked with narrowed eyes.

“I will do what I must,” she said primly with a tilt of her chin. “Now, off with these-”

“Yes, Lady,” he replied with a gleam behind his eyes.

When he stood before her in just his thin linen shorts, she could not help but reach for the bandage wrapped around his waist, fingers grazing against the gauze. Lucia had become an expert in the scars that marked his body and it pained her that this new one included her in its history. She frowned as she pressed her lips together, the vision of him falling before her flashing through her mind once again.

“Please don’t think of it, darlin’,” he said, reaching for her hand. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

She knew this to be true and it was what left a pit of worry in her stomach. 

But she had known who Finan was from the very beginning, known the warrior that lived within him, and there was no use in her now deciding that it was too much for her to bear. Uhtred’s voice rang in her ears. _“Accept it or wallow-”_ His words stung, the weight of them feeling heavy against her shoulders as she watched her lover lay unconscious, but they had been fair. She had to make her choice. 

And she chose Finan.

It was always going to be Finan. 

“You have, countless times in my head since you first fell,” she admitted.

“Lucia-”

“It is a small price to pay because you are here standing before me,” she told him as she brought his hand to her lips, pressing a kiss against his knuckles. “Now, let us get into bed so that I may take care of you for a change.”

\--

“They’ve _all_ got weapons?”

Finan’s voice was incredulous as Lucia recounted the tale of Sister Adallinda and the terror she reigned upon the Danes with her axe. She laughed, “Hild has been training them in secret- perhaps Lord Uhtred might consider them for his guard.”

“Now that’d be a sight,” he said with a quiet chuckle. 

She brushed her fingers through his hair, combing it back as he lay between her legs, his back pressed against her chest. She relished the weight of him against her and as his hands traced idle lines along her thighs, she could not help the heat in her skin that followed in the wake of his caress. 

“You would have been proud of this village,” she told him. “The people here did not flee. They fought for us-”

“ _With_ you,” he corrected, pinching playfully at the skin above her knee. “I saw ya, Lucia- I know what ya did to protect the others.” 

“Haesten was shouting to round us all up-” She felt a chill as she remembered the Dane’s voice. “I just kept thinking of the children and what it was like when I was young- it was all I could think about-”

She had acted only on instinct and it had gotten her through the madness but she did not wish to relive the experience, nor take credit for acts she felt undeserving. 

“But it was chaos,” she continued. “And I could hardly form a thought, let alone function like any warrior should- it was sheer dumb luck that I managed to survive before you returned.”

“One day ya might take a compliment well,” he teased.

“You are biased,” she challenged. 

“I am _proud_ ,” he said, exasperated. 

She could feel her skin flush, her cheeks growing warm, and she was thankful he could not see the way she turned pink. The night they fought the Danes outside of Elentone, there had been a flash of pride as Finan watched her take down a raider, a look that she had longed to see replicated in one way or another. It had set a fire within her then, and it was no different now, the urgency in his voice rattling something inside of her. She tilted her head as she tugged gently at his hair and foraged a trail of kisses from his cheek to the soft spot below his ear and his grip on her thighs tightened in response.

“It was still a wonder to see you charge through the gates,” she told him, her lips hovering against his skin. 

She dragged her fingers down to the nape of his neck, eyes lingering on his broad shoulders and the faint scars scattered across them. She let her hands smooth against his skin before she began to work at his muscles, body tight beneath her touch. A small groan passed through his lips as she found a particularly tough spot at the crook of his neck. The sound brought a heat to her belly and a quirk of a smile to her lips, grateful to have him within her grasp. 

“I went mad when I realized we’d been tricked,” he said after a moment. “Ya couldn’t get me back here fast enough- I just kept thinkin’ of ya here and what I would’ve done if I’d lost ya.”

“But you didn’t,” she said softly. “You’ve still got me.”

She massaged her fingers into his skin, working at the tender spots in his chest. A low hum of pleasure radiated through him as he leaned his head back against her shoulder. She could feel his heart beating and she let her palm rest briefly against the steadiness of it, reminding herself how lucky she really was- how close she had been to losing him. But she could not let that thought linger for too long and went back to her task, taking pleasure in his reactions, the little twitches in his body as she worked at him.

“Christ, yer hands feel good,” he sighed.

“Your poor body is a bit of a wreck, my love,” she said. 

“Aye, that’s battle for ya,” he said with a huff of laughter. “I’m stiff and sore longer these days- unless, of course, there’s a good alehouse I can numb myself with, hell even a bad one can do the job-”

“Or perhaps the hands of another woman once upon a time,” she teased.

“Not like this,” Finan said quietly. 

Her brow furrowed as she let her fingers work at his arms, his biceps flexing beneath her movements. She swallowed as she considered his words and without thinking she blurted, “But you were married-”

He coughed out a laugh, his body stiffening between her legs. He did not say anything, only let his fingers drum a light melody against her kneecap and she knew that she had said something wrong. She let her hands rest against his arms, squeezing them gently.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“Lucia, there’s nothin’ to apologize for,” he stopped her with a shake of his head. “I’ve not told ya everything’ and I should- it’s only fair-” 

“Don’t be silly,” she said. “I am not entitled to your secrets, Finan.”

“Yer my wife- or ya will be,” he told her. “Ya should know who yer marryin’.” 

She would be lying if she said she had not been curious of his past, of wanting to know more than he had initially told her that day in the stables. But she knew the price that came with sharing these burdens, and she did not want Finan to feel he was obligated to pay it. 

“I told ya I was married young,” he continued. “She was a princess of the Uí Néill, a kingdom back in Irland that would’ve given us the kind of power and land my father had been seekin’ his whole life- as the oldest, I was to be the next king, so there wasn’t much choice in what my future looked like-”

She could feel the way his body tensed as he spoke and she let her fingers graze gently up and down his arms, to soothe him in the only way she could think of in that moment.

“She was pleasant enough- but it wasn’t love or anything close. It was duty,” he said, and there was a hint of something dark in his voice. “My brother Conall- he had a freedom I envied, and he married a woman who was nothin’ by birth. A bloody dairy maid. But she was lovely and kind and I was so fuckin’ young and lonely. We fell in love- at least what love could be then. The day we ran was the day I damned her. We thought we could escape Irland, start a new life together but there was nowhere to hide- everyone knew the bounty on our heads and the Uí Néill were relentless-”

He paused for a moment and cleared his throat. 

“When Conall found us, he swore he’d find me a punishment worse than death-” 

“Oh, Finan-” 

Lucia could feel a lump in her throat at the realization that his own brother was the one to damn him to that slave ship. She reached for his hand, curling close against him, lacing her fingers with his and he returned her grip with a fierceness. 

“It was a kindness compared to what happened to her,” he bit out. “Conall didn’t spare her a second thought and the Uí Néill treated her like-” but he couldn’t continue and a heavy silence filled the room before he found his voice once again. “My brother married my wife, became King, and now he plays father to my sons- I’ve got two- and they were so young, I reckon’ they only know me as the cursed one- the one who can never return home-”

He sucked in a deep breath and she could feel his back expand as he exhaled, his shoulders hunching as his words hung around them and she knew it wasn’t just the tension from battle that clung to his body, it was this too- this past haunting him. 

“I’ve not been able to love a woman since,” he said finally. “Until we found ya in the woods and ya crept right into my heart when I wasn’t even thinkin’-” 

“Finan-”

“I didn’t wanna tell ya,” he admitted. “It’s a rotten thing- all of it- the way I was, the way I ruined a good woman’s life for my own, what? Desperation? I wasn’t a man, and I certainly wasn’t a King. I was a coward. And I spent three winters on that boat, thinkin’ nothin’ but what a curse I was.”

“You are not a curse,” she said softly, holding his hand tightly. “You have been a gift to me. There are parts of our past that are going to feel hard, but they don’t make me love you any less- Finan, you were young, and lonely, and love can spark in even the darkest of places. It brought us two sad souls together, didn’t it?”

Her words triggered something in him, a bit of laughter catching in his throat. But he didn’t say anything, only brought their entwined hands to his lips and pressed a rough kiss against her skin. She took a slight breath at the sensation, and a ripple of anger flashed in her belly at the hurt he had suffered. She felt a growing protectiveness for the Irishman who lay in her arms, the man who had just allowed her to see his most vulnerable state, and she would hold that closely.

\--

As Lucia had predicted, Finan was in much greater spirits when Sihtric and Osferth returned for dinner, especially when he noticed the ale in tow. He did not even mind when the two ribbed him for the robe he had draped around his body, the purple and gold brocade that was somehow acquired once upon a time during his early travels with Uhtred. Lucia did not ask for details, but did wonder if it was not pilfered from some unknowing Lord instead of merely “discovered” as Finan had initially recalled. 

Laughter filled the small cottage as plates emptied, the fresh cod caught earlier in the morning nothing but bone and the root vegetables picked apart. But eventually, Sihtric rose from his spot, declaring it time to return home to his family and Lucia could not help the yawn that passed through her lips as he mentioned the word “bedtime.”

“Ealhswith will visit with a dozen loaves in the morning,” the Dane said as he lingered in the doorway, a cool breeze drifting inside the cottage. “That woman of mine has been baking most of the day.”

“That woman is an angel,” Lucia replied brightly. “Kiss her for me, will you?”

Sihtric grinned, “I will happily, Lady.”

“And for me?” Finan teased. 

“Even you,” Sihtric said with a shake of his head. 

As the door closed behind the Dane, Finan refilled the cup that sat in front of Osferth before refilling his own. Lucia shook her head to another round, knowing she was already two drinks deep, and rose from her spot to collect the plates from the table.

“I was just about to go home,” Osferth said as he considered his refill, glancing down at the cup curiously. “But I could stay a bit longer-”

“Good,” Finan replied. “Because ya have some explainin’ to do, baby monk.”

“Do I?” Osferth asked as he looked up, his brow furrowing.

“You ran out so quickly yesterday, talking of love and a woman,” Lucia said sheepishly as she stacked the plates by the washbin. “And forgive me, but my curiosity led me to mention it to Finan and he seemed to think he knew exactly who you were referring to-”

“I do, don’t I?” the Irishman asked, a gleam behind his eyes.

There was a moment of pause as the two men exchanged a brief glance, the monk turning the most delightful shade of pink as he nodded his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. Finan let out a bark of laughter as he leaned to smack at Osferth’s arm. 

“Took ya long enough,” Finan said with a huff of breath. 

“And which woman has turned you so pink, Osferth?” Lucia asked with a smile.

“It is Ama, Lady,” Osferth said as he clasped his hands around his cup. 

“Osferth’s been harborin’ a bit of a crush on the little thing for months now-”

“It might have started that way,” the monk admitted and he was avoiding their eyes but smiling wider than Lucia had ever seen. “But we have been growing closer lately. She’s allowed me to take her for walks along the Thames and well- after this battle, and after watching the way you took such care of Finan, Lady, I thought I must take my chance.”

Lucia pressed her fingers to her lips as she considered the two of them, the fair nursemaid who was so gentle and kind with Uhtred’s boisterous children, and the brave and thoughtful Osferth who had somehow become one of her most trusted confidantes. It was almost absurd how perfectly the two seemed to fit.

“I am so happy for you, Osferth,” she said. 

“Aye, there’s nothin’ like the love of a good woman,” Finan grinned, his stare flickering to where Lucia stood and there was a light within his eyes, a warmth that reached her right down to her toes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope I did justice to Finan's backstory here, it was so important to me he feel comfortable enough to share that with Lucia. Thank you all again for such lovely feedback, I can't believe how close we are to the end! 💕


	20. it’s the dirtiest clean i know

“I’m not certain that’s the best idea, Lord-”

It was mid-morning and the village was bustling with the rebuild, all able-bodied men hard at work to reinforce the walls and watchtowers that protected Coccham from the outside. There was an energy that carried, an invigorated people keen on fixing the harm that had been done to them by Haesten and his men, and it had been this way every day since the battle ended. Although it did not bother Lucia to see Uhtred coax Finan from his rest with challenges of stones and games in the main room, this morning was different. Finan’s presence was apparently needed to oversee some of the build near the south side. As the commander of Uhtred’s guard, he was one of the very few that Uhtred trusted enough to be his eyes and ears. 

Sometimes Lucia wondered if Finan was the only one Uhtred trusted enough in any matter.

But it had only been ten days in Finan’s healing and she was not sure it was worth risking.

She chose her words carefully but Lucia knew that they were not what Uhtred was hoping to hear. He looked to her curiously as he crossed the room and plopped himself down at the kitchen table, hitching his feet up on the tabletop as he grabbed an apple. He stared at her expectantly as he took a large bite. But she would not budge. So, she cleared her throat as she turned back to her task, reaching for the hard bristled brush and cast iron pan she had been in the middle of scrubbing. 

“Finan is my best strategist,” Uhtred said. “He is essential to the reinforcement of these walls.”

“And he has already talked to you in detail about what must be done,” she said.

“It is different,” Uhtred said with a wave of the apple in his hand casually. “I need him there.”

“Mathilda was quite clear that it would be a fortnight before his wound made real progress,” she said as she narrowed her brow, focusing in on one particularly tough spot of grease on the edge of the pan. “And her instruction was that he focus only on rest, not work of any kind-”

“A walk across the village is hardly work,” Uhtred countered stiffly.

“Then you have not paid attention to the way he still struggles to get out of bed,” she told him.

A pause lingered heavily in the air for a moment and she could hear the chair scrape across the hardwoods as his feet dropped back down to the floor. 

“It is because you hover over him like he is a child, smothering any chance of recovery,” he admonished darkly. “This house is stale with sick- what he needs is fresh air.”

Lucia stiffened, her hand releasing the brush with a clatter in the wash bin.

“Is it?” she asked, her heart beginning to race as she turned back to face him, wiping her hands against the apron tied around her waist. “Is it what Finan needs? Or is what  _ you _ want?”

Uhtred lifted a brow, “Speak plainly.”

“I think it is  _ you _ who is restless, Lord.”

He scoffed, “Nonsense.”

“You are spoiled by his loyalty. You do not know what to do with yourself while he is recovering,” she said, her hands balling into fists at her side. “It is selfishness. He is not well and he is not leaving this house- not to stand in the heat and give orders when you have other men qualified to do so.” 

She did not avert her eyes from the scowl that flashed across his features, instead meeting his with one of her own. There had been a tension that had risen between them since the moment Finan fell in battle, and the ebbs and flows of his disappointment with her were impossible to predict. And she was tired of trying to wade those waters.

“You would speak that way to your Lord?” he smirked, a gleam flickering behind his eye.

“I am merely matching your tone,” she taunted. 

“Jesus Christ, won’t ya give it a rest?”

Finan stood in the doorway of his bedroom clad in only his linen shorts, his body leaning heavily against the door jam as he held one arm wrapped around his waist. He rubbed at his face with his other hand, wiping at the sleep in his eyes as he let out a deep sigh. He had not slept well, tossing and turning beside her all night, and Lucia had hoped he would be able to recover some hours in the morning, but she imagined the rising volume of their voices did not make that very easy. She felt a heat rise at the back of her neck and she took a step back from Uhtred, turning herself away from them both. 

“You are awake,” Uhtred said needlessly.

“Aye, it’s a bit hard to sleep when yer both actin’ outta yer minds,” the Irishman grumbled.

Neither of them could manage to meet his eyes and the silence that followed would almost seem funny to Lucia if she did not feel so embarrassed. She braced herself against the edge of the kitchen table, hands gripping at the edge as she studied Uhtred, watching as he rubbed at the back of his neck. The tension lingering in his shoulders reminded her of the night they carried Finan off the battlefield, and the way he so carefully helped them ready the Irishman for Mathilda’s arrival. But she could not manage to shake the anger that had settled in her bones, she could not brush aside Uhtred’s words and how deeply they cut her. 

“Ah, yer quiet now, eh?” Finan looked between them with a shake of his head as he straightened and with unsteady steps, crossed to the kitchen table. He sank into a chair beside Lucia and winced as his abs constricted, his hand pressing against his wound. “Ya couldn't've taken this approach a few minutes ago?”

“Lucia and I disagree-” Uhtred said finally, throwing his hands up. “You should be out there with the guard, overseeing the reinforcements to our walls- it is your duty.”

“Lord, do ya think I like layin’ in that bed?” Finan asked with a furrowed brow. “God bless Lucia for dealin’ with me, because it hasn’t been easy. I can hardly lift my arms- I’d be useless to ya out there-”

Uhtred’s features softened and he sighed. 

“It is hard to do all of this without you,” he told him. 

“‘Course it is,” Finan laughed. “Ya know all yer good ideas come from me.”

Uhtred narrowed his eyes at the Irishman before his lips quirked into a smile and he relaxed into laughter. “I will leave you to your rest.”

“Damn right ya will,” Finan muttered but there was a warmth behind his eyes.

Lucia pushed herself away from the table as Uhtred left them without a word or a glance in her direction, the door clanging shut behind him. She returned to the wash bin, plucking another dirty dish to scrub as she tried to settle her nerves. She had meant every word she said to Uhtred, even if she was ashamed of how her anger got the better of her. Her worry was that he meant every word he said to her, too. 

“Lucia?” 

Finan’s voice was tentative as he called her name, and she felt she could not turn around, still mortified he had overheard their argument, and the way she snapped at Uhtred. Her shoulders sank as she hovered over the wash bin, her hands intent on scrubbing clean the small bowl in her grasp. 

“Are ya alright?”

His tone was soft, questioning, and she knew she could not avoid him, nor avoid talking about this. She sighed as she turned to face him, and her heart fluttered when she saw the concern behind his eyes. 

“No,” she said quietly. She clasped her hand against her upper arm as she chewed on the inside of her cheek. “Uhtred said- that I am hovering and well, I worry he might be right. That I am the reason you still feel so much pain-”

Finan sucked in a breath and a flicker of anger flashed through his dark eyes.

“Uhtred tends to speak without thinkin’,” he said, as he raked a hand through his hair. “Ya shouldn’t listen to him when he’s all riled up- it’s nothin’ but nonsense-”

“But what if I am?”

“Lucia, it’s not yer fault this bleatin’ wound still hurts,” the Irishman said reaching for her.

He offered her a sort of half smile as she crossed toward him, and as she came close enough to where he sat, he grabbed at her waist and settled her body between his knees. He looked up at her as he held her hands to his chest. His hold was strong and steady and Lucia found herself letting go of a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding as he held her gaze.

“I’m only fairin’ as well as I am because of ya,” he told her. “No one’s ever been so careful with me before- and I need ya, darlin’.” 

A sheepish smile tugged at her lips as she tilted her head, taking her hands from his grasp to wrap her arms around his shoulders. “I am sorry I lost my temper.”

“I’m not,” he chuckled, his fingers tangling in the skirts of her dress. “Yer a fierce one and God knows he had it comin’- he’s never been good at being told no-”

“Still, we woke you when you needed your sleep-” she said. “Can I help you back to bed?”

“Only if ya join me,” he grinned as he tugged her closer. 

\--

“He said  _ what _ ?”

The market was particularly crowded as Lucia and Ealhswith approached, merchants eager to sell the last of their summer wares before autumn finally arrived. Lucia had been grateful to the other woman for accompanying her on her errands, a list lingering in her hands with the little odds and ends she needed now that she officially lived at Finan’s cottage full-time. Though, she supposed it was  _ their _ cottage now, something Finan had reminded her of at least a dozen times since she moved her things in. But she knew it would not feel truly real until they were married, whenever that time arrived- neither of them had discussed it much since Uhtred gave his blessing. 

They really hadn’t had the time considering- well, everything that had happened since.

Ealhswith adjusted the sling strapped across her chest with a disapproving click of her tongue, her hand resting gently against the back of Revna’s head. The baby cooed softly as they dodged a small caravan of dried goods, Ealhswith staring the other villager down with narrowed eyes at the inconvenience. 

“Honestly, Lucia, I would have whacked him with that cast iron pan,” Ealhswith continued. 

“I am not certain what it is, Ealhswith, that I did,” Lucia said with a sigh. “But I am no longer in the good graces of our Lord.”

“It will pass,” the other woman said with a wave of her hand, her eyes keen on the produce lining the market stalls, leeks and onions and carrots overflowing from wooden buckets. “Our village has never suffered an attack before now. Uhtred has taken it very personally. His pride is wounded and he feels responsible for every little scratch found.”

“Well, perhaps he could find another outlet for his anger,” Lucia replied thoughtfully. “It is quite difficult to tutor his children while he is scowling at me from across the room-”

“Can’t imagine that’s helpful.”

“It is certainly distracting,” she said with a shake of her head. 

“Oh, dear, speak of the devil-” Ealhswith said suddenly.

Lucia looked up and her stomach lurched as she spied Uhtred in the crowd, deep in conversation with Father Beocca. They were walking directly toward them, though neither of the men had noticed the women standing across from them. Her shoulders sagged as she shared a glance with Ealhswith, the other woman merely shrugging as she carefully picked through the bundles of carrots. Lucia took a step behind her, not certain she wanted to spend another morning as the subject of a certain someone’s disdain. 

But it made no difference as Beocca looked up and waved with a bright and cheerful smile.

“Ah, Lady Lucia, Ealhswith, what a lovely day, isn’t it?” Beocca called out.

Lucia forced a tight smile as the two men approached and to give Uhtred his due, he did not look as unhappy as she expected. Still, he did not make direct eye contact and there was some semblance of discomfort in his posture as the four of them stood among the bustling crowd in the market. 

Beocca clasped his hands against his waist and offered Lucia a knowing glance. “We have missed you at prayer, Lady.”

“Oh-” Lucia paled, knowing just how many days had passed since her last visit to the chapel. She wondered if Beocca noticed it began with the evening she bid them off to battle. “It has been a hectic time. But perhaps soon-”

He nodded, “Whenever you are ready.”

“Why do you not miss me at church, Father Beocca?” Ealhswith asked with a narrow of her brow, waving a hand with an onion clasped in her palm.

“I cannot miss that which is never there,” Beocca replied with a tilt of his head. 

A wide and toothy grin spread across Ealhswith’s face, her eyes crinkling as she conceded Beocca’s point with a tilt of her own head and a shake of her shoulders, the baby strapped to her chest seeming to giggle at the movement. 

“A hit,” Ealhswith said as she dropped the onion into her basket. 

“Lucia, do you have a moment?” Uhtred asked suddenly.

She tore her eyes away from the laughing Ealhswith and Beocca to find that Uhtred’s gaze was upon her and there was a flash of something behind them, a feeling different enough from the general loathing she had begun to accept as the new normal. But she could not place it and while she had no urge for a repeat of the prior morning, she knew she would not say no.

“Of course, Lord,” she said.

“Father Beocca, would you help me decide on a fabric for Revna’s cradle?”

She watched as Ealhswith wrapped her arm around Beocca’s shoulders and directed him toward another stall in the market. She looked after her friend wistfully for a moment before she turned back to Uhtred. He was fidgeting with his tunic, his fingers tugging at a loose thread.

“Will you walk with me?” he asked, gesturing toward the fields behind the marketplace. 

She nodded and followed his footsteps, neither one of them speaking as they made their way away from the crowds and noise. It reminded her of her first morning in Coccham, when Uhtred had visited the nunnery and swept her out into the village with his sweet demeanor and kind words. How different it felt now, she thought.

Clouds drifted into the sky and it grew slightly dark as the sun hovered behind them. She glanced up, grateful for the shade, the summer heat still lingering even as they inched closer and closer to the cooler months. 

“I have been thinking about what you said-” 

He paused as they reached the sparring field, and she could see a few younger men in the guard practicing their sword skill across the way. They both watched them spar for a moment, Uhtred’s brow furrowing as one knocked the other over easily and with a shake of his head, he led Lucia to the bench near the training cabinet. 

“Finan is the only one with enough patience to keep the guard well-trained,” he said as he sat down, his eyes focused on his boots, and his elbows resting on his knees. “I had not considered all it is he does until I did not have him by my side these last few days.”

A huff of breath passed through Lucia’s lips before she could help herself. 

He glanced up at her with a sheepish smile. “But you knew-” 

“He would do anything for you, Lord,” she said delicately. “Even when he should not.”

“Which is why you fought against me,” Uhtred nodded. 

Lucia sat down beside him, letting her basket rest in the grass beside her feet. The sun peeked from behind the clouds again and she tilted her head back to let the warmth wash over her, her eyes closing for just a moment. She was not sure she was ready for summer to be over, after all. 

“He was restless in the beginning,” she admitted. “But I think he has grown to like the quiet and it scares him a little bit. Your lives are so driven by battle and you’re always moving. I knew if you asked him, he would say yes- because he feels he must. Because he wants to do right by you. But he is not ready and I can take that fight on for him. Even against you, my Lord.”

“As you should,” he said quietly. 

“Uhtred?” Lucia’s brow furrowed as she turned to look at him. 

“I was selfish,” Uhtred conceded with a sigh. “It has been known to happen from time to time.”

“I have noticed,” she said as she nudged her shoulder against his. 

He barked out a laugh before straightening his posture, stretching his legs out in front of him as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. She could not help the laughter that spilled from her as she caught his eyes and relished in the rediscovered warmth behind them. 

“I am sorry,” he told her after a moment, when their laughter died down and a genial silence fell between them. “I have a talent, it seems, with carelessness and you do not deserve to so continually be on the receiving end. You are a good woman, and good for Finan.”

There was something more he seemed to want to say but he did not continue and Lucia sighed.

“You do know what happened here was not your fault, Lord,” she said as she leaned her head against his shoulder. “It was men driven by greed and desperation- and I think you must decide to be kinder to yourself. It is because of you Coccham still stands.”

“It is because of me it was unarmed-”

“These people fought hard to protect their home, the home you have given them,” she insisted. “And they did that because of you, Uhtred.”

“You are too kind to me,” he said as he squeezed her tightly.

“That is true,” she said as a smirk quirked at her lips. 

Uhtred laughed brightly and Lucia was so thankful to hear that sound.

\--

The streets were quiet as Lucia led Finan toward the south side of the village, the people of Coccham tucked away in their homes or in the alehouse, the full moon their only source of light as they moved quietly toward the back gate. She tried to soothe her nerves as they neared the wall, and she reached for his hand, lacing her fingers with his. She felt giddy, and could not help the quiet laughter that tickled her when she caught the curiosity in his eyes. 

“Where are ya takin’ me?” he asked as he tugged her against him, momentarily pausing their journey. “I’ve only just gotten permission to move freely and you’ve got me dashing through the village.”

It had been three days since Mathilda removed his stitches and although he admitted there was still a slight ache in his belly, he was nearly back to normal.

“Do you trust me?” she asked as she looked up at him with a wriggle of her brow.

He narrowed his eyes at her even as a smile tugged at his lips.

“Aye,” he said, his hand cupping the side of her face and she leaned into his touch. “I do.”

“Then you will just have to wait and see, my love.”

He released her from his embrace, before following after her with a chuckle as she led him to the unassuming back gate tucked behind the nunnery. It was built into the wall with such fine care, it would be rather difficult to find in the daytime and near impossible in the nighttime- an intentional design by Uhtred and Finan when they had first come to Coccham and a choice that saved more than a dozen lives during the raid. But she had noticed the way a gnarled oak tree’s branches hung close to the latch and soon enough they were outside the village walls.

“I thought we might celebrate,” she said as she led him through a small patch of woods.

“By draggin’ me out into the forest?” he questioned. 

“Did I forget to tell you I dabble in full moon sacrifices?” she asked innocently.

“Nothin’ like findin’ out now as ya lure me to my death,” he said with a sigh.

On the other side of the woods was the shore of the Thames, the moon reflecting off the quietly moving waters and illuminating a small, secluded clearing, its light bright enough that they could find their way with relative ease. Lucia stepped forward, her nerves working their way through her skin as she dropped the satchel she had carried with her on the ground. From it she pulled a large linen blanket and the furs she had nicked from the cottage. It didn’t take her long to set everything up on the shores and she enjoyed the dumbfounded look on Finan’s face as he watched her.

“Are we campin’?” he asked, brow furrowed. 

She smiled but said nothing as she undid the belt around her waist. She then kicked off her boots and created a small pile near a large rock beside them. 

“I woke this morning desperate for a swim,” she said simply.

She wriggled her toes in the fresh earth before she turned to face him, a wicked gleam behind her eyes as she worked at the ties of her dress. Finan watched her movements, his lips parting just slightly as his eyes flickered toward her hands. It did not take long before the garment was in a pile and she was left in just her linen smock.

“Are you going to join me?” she asked, a tinge of amusement to her tone. 

But he could not tear his eyes from her as she slowly dropped the straps of her smock, one shoulder at a time, letting the fabric slide from her body. She stepped from the underdress as it pooled at her feet and stood there completely bare in the moonlight. 

“Jesus Christ, Lucia,” he muttered as she took a step toward him.

A smirk pulled at her lips as he closed the space between them, Finan’s still-clothed body lingering against her naked one, his hands grazing along her arms. She held his gaze as her fingers tugged at the waist of his trousers and she could feel the growing hardness beneath the fabric pressed against her. 

“Perhaps this is what you imagined?” she teased as she worked the laces of his trousers. 

“Oh- it’s better,” he said, voice rough.

He worked his tunic up and over his head, tossing it to the growing pile of discarded clothing and Lucia could not help but let her eyes travel over his form, his taut waist and strong shoulders glowing in the moonlight. She watched as he stepped from his boots and she could feel a heat pooling low in her belly as she stripped him of the rest of his clothing, leaving them both standing there naked on the shore of the River Thames.

She ran her fingers against his broad chest, drawing them down further and she enjoyed the way his abs clenched against her touch. He had given her so much pleasure, and she was desperate to return the favor. There was a sharp intake of breath from Finan as she found how hard he was, her fingers teasing at his length before she wrapped her hand around him and began to stroke. 

“Fuck,” he moaned as he reached for her, his hand grabbing at her waist as he pressed a rough and frenzied kiss to her lips, his beard tickling her skin as he tangled his other hand in her hair, curls loose and wild hanging down her back. 

She felt a thrill from being able to incite this kind of reaction in him.

“Come here, my love,” she breathed, her lips hovering against his, and she released her hold on him as she led him toward the water. 

It was surprisingly warm but that did not stop the gasp of breath that escaped from Lucia as she let it engulf her, dropping her body beneath the surface. As she rose up, brushing her wet hair back off her face, she could see Finan doing the same and there was a wild heat that ran through her when she saw the way his hair looked slicked back, and the way the water droplets ran down his neck. She watched as he swam the short distance toward her, and sucked in a breath when she could feel his body press up against hers.

She reached to run her fingers through his hair, gripping gently at the nape of his neck as she drew his mouth to hers. He was eager for her and their lips parted as the kiss deepened, his one hand pressing against her lower back. She pushed her hips against him and a moan caught in his throat as the water splashed at their shoulders. 

“You are all mine tonight,” she said softly.

She let her hand drift below the waters, tickling against his waist before she found him again, wrapping around his length. He shifted his hips toward her grasp as she began to stroke him slowly, teasingly, Lucia knowing she wanted to take her time with him. But she was not sure how long she could ignore the way his reactions drove a desire within her.

“I’m yours always,” he said but his breath hitched as she ran her thumb across the tip of him. 

Their bodies tangled beneath the surface as she worked at him, Lucia reveling in the little twitches of pleasure as he grew closer to his peak. His hand tangled in her hair and he tilted her head back to give himself access to her neck, his mouth trailing hot kisses against her skin. Her eyes fluttered shut at the sensation and a small hum lingered on her lips. His other hand pressed against her breast, fingers playing at her nipple and a ripple of pleasure worked its way through her body.

“Yer drivin’ me mad,” he mumbled, his teeth grazing at the crook of her neck. 

“Tell me what you want,” she said with soft demand.

She slowed her pace, knowing that he was close, and a smile quirked at her lips as a groan passed through his. “Lucia-” 

“Tell me, Finan,” she whispered, enjoying the frustration. “I want to give you what you want.”

“I want  _ you _ ,” he said, and as he met her gaze, the desire radiating behind his eyes left her breathless and warm and utterly lost in her own want. “I want to feel every single inch of ya-”

She ran her tongue across her bottom lip, releasing her hold on him and grabbing at his hand to lead him from the river. Their bodies dripped with water as she stepped backward onto the shore, not bothering to hide the way her eyes ravished him as he followed. They had taken their time, Finan as patient as ever as Lucia figured out what it was she wanted and needed in the bedroom. He had taught her things she had never known possible and did not pressure her to want more until she was ready.

She was more than ready now. 

The furs were soft against her skin as she settled among the blankets, resting on her side as she watched Finan sink down beside her. They lay there facing each other and she could sense the mixture of feelings within the Irishman, the want and the need and the worry that he was pushing Lucia somewhere she didn’t want to be. But there was no need for that now, and she reached for his hand and pressed a kiss to his palm.

“I want you, too,” she said and she moved toward him, pushing him gently onto his back, kissing him with a feverish abandon as she straddled his waist with her thighs, careful to avoid the still tender scar where his wound had been.

His hand moved to her neck, curving against her skin, his tongue hungry for her as she writhed her hips down against him. He gripped at her waist with his other hand, fingers pressing roughly into her skin and she gasped against his lips at the pressure, realizing how much she liked his rough touch.

She teased the length of him with her growing wetness and he moaned into her mouth, his hand palming from her waist to her hip to cup just underneath her ass and she twitched at the way he felt between her legs. 

She ached to know what he would feel like inside of her. 

Lucia shifted her hips slightly, her back straightening as she rose up on her knees. His eyes traveled across her body appreciatively as she lifted herself enough to let her entrance hover over him. Her heart felt ravenous in her chest as she just barely let her wetness tease the tip of him, and he groaned as she used her hand to guide him inside of her. 

Her name spilled from his lips as she sank her hips down, and he held her tightly as she began to rock her body against him, her own moan mingling with his. There was a distinct pleasure in how he felt, how he filled her, how every part of her seemed to tingle as she pressed her hands against his chest, letting her hips rise and fall. 

“ _ Fuck _ -” he gasped, his head tilting back as she rode him. 

She couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips as she arched her back, feeling how deep he was within her, how slick she felt against him. His hands traveled her body, drawing rough trails against her skin, one pressing against her chest and she wrapped her hand around his wrist, willing the pressure of his touch against her breast, moaning as he found her nipple and pinched playfully at her skin.

She gasped as his other hand worked its way to her sex, his thumb turning soft circles against her even as she bucked against him. The sensation drove her wild, the feeling of him inside of her as he worked at her, increasing the pace and his pressure, his hands like magic as they seemed to be everywhere at once. 

“That’s it-” Finan urged, and he thrust his hips up just at the right moment.

A breathless sort of laughter caught in her throat and she hummed in pleasure as she reached her peak- the feeling snuck up on her, catching her off guard, and she couldn’t help the way his name fell from her lips or the quiet cry of ecstasy as her hips twitched roughly against his. The wave of bliss crashed over her with a fierceness and it took her a moment to regain her breath.

“Come here,” he breathed and she caught the smirk tugging at his lips, clearly pleased with himself. He had a wicked gleam behind his eyes and she bent down to kiss that look right off his face, her thighs tightening against his waist.

But all he did was tangle his hands in her hair as he held her close, laughing against her mouth as he bucked his hips against hers. Her hands fell to his shoulders as she slid her hips back and forth, clenching herself around him and feeling victorious when he grunted deeply, his body quivering beneath hers. 

“Lucia, I’m gonna-” 

But his words died on his lips as he finally climaxed, the sounds replaced with a gasp of breath, and she could feel the way he filled her, the way his thighs spasmed against her and she clung to him tightly as he rode his release. His chest heaved and his eyes squeezed shut for a moment as he held her against him and when he opened them again, she met his gaze with a breathless sort of smile, her skin flushed with heat and sex and absolute pleasure.

“Yer beautiful,” he said softly, his hand reaching up to brush a wet strand of hair behind her ear. “And that was-”

“Alright?” she ventured, ducking her head against his chest before he could answer.

“Much more than alright,” he chuckled. “It was everythin’.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing like ending a chapter with a bang! (Pun intended)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! We're in the final stretch which is absolutely crazy to me. I am really so grateful to all you readers out there, you're amazing. 💕


	21. and i walked off an old me

“ _Oh-_ ”

Breathless laughter spilled from her lips as Lucia arched her back, her legs shifting against each other as Finan trailed warm kisses along the crook of her neck, his beard tickling her skin. His hand curved around her thigh, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he fit himself against her, his hard chest pressing against her back, and she could not help but reach for him, arm twisting to let her fingers curl through his thick, dark hair. 

His fingers danced across her skin playfully before they settled between her legs, and her lips hummed with pleasure as he grazed against her entrance, a quiet chuckle vibrating against her shoulder as he realized how wet with want she already was. She twitched her hips back in response, feeling his growing hardness against her and a low groan fell from his lips before he slid a finger inside of her. 

She writhed her body against his as she bit back a moan, turning to bury her face in her pillow as he slid in another, his thumb working at that little sensitive spot with a practiced rhythm that drove Lucia mad. She parted her legs, giving him more access and he took it greedily, his thumb driving delirious little circles against her until she was at her climax, and it was all she could do to buck her hips back against him as the pleasure tumbled through her, breath catching in her throat.

But she knew she wanted more. 

“Finan- _please_ -”

“Yes, Lady?” his voice rough as his fingers crooked just slightly inside of her. 

Her voice caught in her throat as he moved against her. “I need to feel all of you-”

He shifted and she could feel him tease against her opening, his hand working to guide himself inside of her. She gasped at the length of him, but did not hesitate to push back to take him further, and the groan that rumbled on his lips sent another tingle through her. He gripped at her waist as he thrust against her, and she cried out his name as he held her tightly against him. 

She could feel her hair dampen at her forehead as a slick of sweat clung to her body. He cupped at the swell of her breast, rolling her nipple between his index finger and his thumb, leaving her swollen and tender and overwhelmed with desire. She covered his hand with her own, guiding him further up her body until she could taste herself on his fingers, the sensation drawing a moan from Finan as he continued to thrust and she relished in how he could lose himself with her.

“Fuck-” and Finan buried his face in her shoulder, body pulsing against hers as he reached his release, a low gutteral sound catching in his throat. And even as he came, he was pressing his hand back against Lucia’s wetness, thumb working against her until she was cresting that wave for a second time, both of them reaching that peak together.

Her breath felt short as her body started to still and she could sense that Finan was suffering the same as he slid himself from her to rest on his back, his chest rising and falling with every recovered breath, his skin flushed with heat. She ran her fingers through her hair as she caught her breath before she twisted to lay on her opposite side, propping herself up on her elbow to look at him.

“We should start every morning this way,” she said.

A smirk quirked at his lips as he tucked an arm behind his head, a wicked gleam behind his eyes as he twisted his neck to meet her gaze. “I seem to remember ya sayin’ somethin’ about endin’ our nights in a similar fashion recently-”

“And?” she challenged with a hitched brow.

“Yer right,” he sighed, stretching his body and Lucia could not help but admire the way his muscles rippled at his movements. “Who am I to deny my woman what she wants?”

“You are a _good_ man,” she teased, her free hand tickling low on his abdomen.

His abs clenched and he twisted under her touch, laughter spilling from his lips before he caught her wrist. “Now who’s the devil?” he breathed.

She pondered this as she flexed her fingers in his grasp. “Perhaps you have become a bad influence on me, Finan.”

He considered her as he pressed her wrist to his lips, leaving a warm kiss against her skin.

“The Devil himself could not corrupt ya,” he mused. “Yer too good a woman, Lucia, even if ya are a bit addicted to this bed-”

“Not this bed,” she countered, a soft smile pulling at her lips. “Just the man in it-”

“A relief,” he chuckled, tugging her close toward him. 

Lucia laughed as she curled up beside him, fitting herself in the crook of his other arm. Finan only tucked her into his embrace, broad hand splayed against her hip as he held her against him with an easy sigh. He traced his fingers against her skin and she wondered how much longer she could get away with being in this bed before she was due for her morning lesson. She was spoiled now, to spend every night beside him. 

A quiet stretched between them, and Lucia would have thought he had fallen back asleep if not for the little shapes he drew against her hip, calloused hands creating patterns in her skin. It was the kind of anxiousness that felt familiar to her as she grew to know him and her brow furrowed as he shifted beside her. 

“You seem restless,” she ventured gently.

He huffed a breath as he lifted his head to free his arm. Finan rubbed at his face, hand tugging at his beard before he let it fall to his side. “I’m fine.”

“You are decidedly not,” she said, poking at his chest. 

“I’ve been dreamin’ of ya,” he said, after a moment, voice rough. “Yer this vision in a pretty dress with flowers in yer hair and ya smell like that soap ya love- but yer sayin’ somethin’ and I can’t hear ya- I can never hear ya-”

Lucia propped herself onto her elbow, her eyes studying her Irishman in concern. 

He met her gaze and for the first time she saw tears clouding his eyes, something sheepish flickering across his features. “And then all of a sudden, there’s this spot on your belly that’s startin’ to turn red- and yer fallin’ and I can’t catch ya-” 

“Oh, my love-” 

But he shakes his head, “It’s all I remember from bein’ in that bed. It was torture, seein’ yer face but knowin’ I couldn’t touch ya or talk to ya or save ya- I thought when I recovered it’d be over but it’s all I see when I sleep.”

“It’s been more than a month since Haesten’s men attacked,” she said, her thumb catching a tear at the corner of his eye. “And you’ve been suffering these dreams the entire time?”

“I wake up to ya next to me and yer safe-” he said quietly. “I didn’t want to bother ya with this silliness-” 

She cupped her hand against the side of his face and pressed a kiss to his cheek. She could taste the salt from the tears that streaked his skin and she could not help the guilt that began to unravel in her belly. That wound had been meant for her, after all. 

“This is not silliness,” she countered. “Finan, you can tell me anything- good, bad, silly, it does not matter- Your feelings are not a burden to me, it’s just not possible.”

He exhaled, letting go of a deep and tired breath before twisting onto his side, his arm curving around her waist to pull her flush against him. His grip on her was firm and Lucia leaned into it, their legs tangling as his eyes held fast to hers. She brushed her fingers through his hair, before letting her thumb press light pressure against his temple. His eyes flickered shut for a moment.

“Ya dunno how good it felt to wake up in that bed and see ya beside me,” he said. “My body hurt like I’d been trampled by a hundred horses and I could hardly move but ya held my hand and ya never left me-”

“I love you,” she said as if those three words explained everything. “There was not anywhere else to be than by your side. It’s the only place I wish to be.” 

Her response brought a furrow of his brow as he considered her, his eyes lighting up as a small chuckle passed through his lips. “I really oughta marry ya.”

“Hm, yes, you really should,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him playfully.

\--

Although the people of Coccham were victorious against Hasten and his men, the damage done to their village was severe. Repairs and restoration had become a large part of the town’s day-to-day with much of the people pitching in to help. Thatching roofs, fixing foundations, securing the new plans for the walls and watchtowers, even installing a spike rail along the perimeter - there was a lengthy list of things to be done, but there was progress. 

And with progress came quite a bit of noise. 

Especially within the walls of the Main Hall, the roof repair a steady stream of hammer blows and curses from the men in the guard who were assigned the task. One particularly loud bang woke Osbert from his nap with a shriek and soon the Main Hall was just a cacophony of screaming baby, heavy banging, and a very irritated Stiorra. 

“It’s so _loud_ ,” the little girl cried out, letting the last word go on for a bit too long before she rested her forehead on the table with her hands covering her ears. “Make it _stop_!”

Lucia’s eye began to twitch as she tried to focus on the spelling sheet Stiorra had completed, the sounds ricocheting around in her brain as she deciphered the tiny script. She pressed her fingers to her temple as she considered her options. Even Young Uhtred was at his wits end as he let out a huff of breath and pushed his book away. The scowl that pulled at his features reminded her so much of his father that she could not help the smile that spread across her face.

“I cannot focus,” the young boy muttered. 

Lucia nodded in silent agreement as her eyes roamed the Main Hall, catching for a moment on a frazzled Ama as the nursemaid rocked a crying Osbert in an effort to soothe him. They passed in front of the open window and it did not take long for Lucia to come up with a different approach to her lesson.

“We might need to reconsider our classroom today,” she mused, her eyes lingering on the courtyard outside. It was a lovely day all things considered, a pleasant coolness settling into the air as the summer heat finally dissipated. “What do you all say to a picnic?”

They found the perfect place atop a small hill just outside the walls of Coccham. It was a large field filled with wildflowers, the perfect distance from the hustle and bustle of repairs and quiet enough that it did not take long for Ama to get Osbert back down for his nap, much to the nursemaid’s relief. With the help of a few servants from the Main Hall, two large blankets were set up for them, and lunch was a variety of meats and cheeses and fruits in pretty silver platters with two fresh loaves of bread to be picked apart. Young Uhtred did not hesitate to dig in as he resumed his reading, stuffing cheese into his mouth as he tried to recount the tale of Freya, Stiorra quietly giggling as she listened to her brother. 

“Tore, slow _down_!”

The young boy hesitated for a moment and spared his mother a glance before he continued to bound up the hill, his cheeks a ruddy hue as he landed in the grass beside Young Uhtred with a flop, the other boy bursting into laughter. Ealhswith followed only a moment after, Revna clasped to her chest. She sighed as she carefully took a spot on the corner of the blanket, adjusting Revna in her sling as she made herself comfortable.

“Can we play now?” Young Uhtred asked.

Suddenly three sets of eyes were boring into Lucia and she stifled her laughter as she nodded, knowing that forcing them to finish their studies would be a losing battle now that their friend had arrived. The children scrambled to their feet and took off chasing after one another, Stiorra becoming their target and Lucia watched as the little girl shrieked and tore off in a sprint. 

“Do not have boys,” Ealhswith said to them both, her eyes lingering on her son as he dashed through the grass. “They are too quick- I have been chasing after him all day and I am exhausted. How can little legs run that fast?”

“Let them run,” Lucia said with a wave of her hand. “They will tire themselves eventually.”

“And then I will have to roll him down this hill back home,” Eahlswith chuckled.

Revna let out a small cry and Ealhswith carefully plucked her from the sling tied around her torso. Little fists shook as she began to whine and Ealhswith made a soft, cooing sound as she cradled her in her arms. It was hard to believe that Revna was only six weeks old, so much happening in such a short amount of time. It was almost overwhelming to think of all that had changed, and Lucia let her eyes linger instead on the baby as she began to quiet in her mother’s arms.

“Oh, I saw Finan this morning,” Ama said suddenly. “How is he feeling?”

“He is eager to be back to normal but Mathilda believes there’s a bit more healing ahead of him,” she said, before popping a grape into her mouth. “He’s quickly regaining his strength, though-”

“And I bet he is putting it to good use,” Ealhswith said with a wicked gleam behind her eye. 

“ _Ealhswith_ -” Lucia’s eyes widened as laughter spilled from her lips. 

“I just cannot believe you two are not yet married,” she continued as Ama giggled.

“We have been a bit preoccupied,” Lucia countered with a wave of her hands.

“Well get on with it,” Ealhswith laughed. “We could do with a celebration-”

“She is right,” Ama agreed as she curled her legs under her form. “Everyone in the village has been so hard at work with repairs- it would be rather nice to have a wedding.”

“Honestly, I’ve not the faintest idea of how to plan one,” Lucia admitted. 

“Well, I do,” Ealhswith said with a knowing glance. “And you will have plenty of help.”

“Alright, alright,” she relented, looking at both women in exasperation. “I will talk to Finan.”

“This is so wonderful!” Ama said, clapping her hands together. “A wedding!”

Osbert shifted beside the nursemaid and she looked panicked at the idea of the baby waking. They all stifled themselves, watching with bated breath as he turned onto his side, curling against Ama’s legs, his thumb in his mouth as he settled once again. The three women shared a collective sigh before dissolving into quiet laughter. 

“Are we interrupting?”

They turned to find Osferth and Sihtric standing before them, both eyeing the women with curious glances, and Lucia could not help but begin to laugh a bit harder. She shook her head, waving for them to join. When lunch moved outside, she had asked if a servant could find Osferth and invite him to join for his Latin lesson- it seemed too good an idea to pass up. Sihtric had only been looking for his wife when he found Osferth at the bottom of the hill. She watched as the Dane leaned down to place a kiss at the crown of Ealhswith’s head, his hands resting on either side of her face before he reached to squeeze at Revna’s hand. Ealhswith, for all her bluster, smiled brightly at her husband’s greeting, tilting her head back to catch his eye.

“Papa- come play with us,” Tore shouted. “We are warriors!”

“It seems I have been summoned,” Sihtric said, mock seriously before he jogged off to join whatever game the children had cooked up. 

Osferth watched after him for a moment, chuckling as the Dane picked his son up and tossed him over his shoulder, before he sat down beside Ama. The two shared a look, a soft flush creeping into Ama’s skin as he whispered something in her ear, his lips brushing against her cheek in greeting. Lucia pressed her lips together to suppress the smile that threatened, turning away to give them their moment- her eyes catching Ealhswith and the two women shared a glance before Osferth cleared his throat. 

“I might’ve mentioned we were coming up the hill to Lord Uhtred and Finan,” he said with a nod toward the village. “They’ve been working at the south side of the wall all morning-”

“It’s a good thing the kitchen provided you with so much food,” Ealhswith smirked. 

Lucia laughed as she rolled her eyes, the platters before them overflowing with the lunch the servants provided for them. Young Uhtred and Stiorra had picked through some of the fruit and cheese but there was plenty of food left for any of the men who had joined the blankets. 

“Are you ready to get started?” she asked Osferth. 

The monk nodded again, though he spared another glance to Ama. 

“We are working on translations, yes?” he asked, brow furrowed. 

“Right through the Old Testament,” she nodded. “Why don’t you work on Isaiah? There are a few verses in chapter fifty-five I quite like, and they’re a touch more difficult than what we’ve been working on.”

“Does this mean I’m getting better?” he ventured with a soft smile.

Lucia reached into her satchel for some spare parchment and a small copy of the Bible she had been using for her sessions with the monk, a gift from Hild when she first arrived in Coccham. She plucked a pen from the depths of the bag and some ink as she eyed him with a knowing glance.

In the few months since Lucia took to Osferth’s Latin studies, the monk had come a long way in his grammar and translations. The only aspect of his learnings that still tripped him were his oral skills- but all that meant was extra practice, and Lucia wondered if an audience would trick him into trying a bit harder. Though when she shared that thought with Finan the other night she had to wait a few minutes for him to stop laughing. 

“You were always quite good, Osferth,” she teased. “Your only true struggle is your oral work-”

“Aye but I reckon’ you’re gettin’ a bit more practice at that now, aren’t ya, baby monk-”

Ealhswith let out a burst of laughter at the interruption as both Ama and Osferth turned a bright shade of pink.

Lucia shook her head in amazement as she turned to find Finan standing at the crest of the hill with a cheeky smile on his face, Uhtred chuckling quietly as he stood behind him. Both men were spotted with bits of dirt and sweat and she could not deny how much she liked seeing her Irishman standing before her, back in his element. Still, she narrowed her eyes at him dutifully.

“You are lucky Father Beocca is not here,” she said. “That Devil’s tongue of yours-”

“That you’ve never once complained about,” Finan whispered as he settled down beside her and she could not help the shiver that ran through her skin at his breath on her neck. 

“Beocca and Hild are too busy with prayer,” Uhtred sighed as he sat opposite Lucia and Finan, his hand already reaching for a loaf of bread to tear apart. “I do not understand why your nailed God requires so much of your day-”

“They are but humble servants, Lord,” Osferth replied though his nose was now in the book as he prepared for his translations. “And I believe Sister Gytha is leading prayer this afternoon- she is rather long-winded, I’m afraid-”

Osferth spoke in understatements when it came to Sister Gytha, Lucia knew from experience, but she appreciated his generosity all the same. Ama only laughed quietly as Finan shook his head.

“And to think they could be out here enjoyin’ the last of the sun,” the Irishman replied with a click of his tongue, before nuzzling briefly against Lucia’s cheek. She leaned back against him, relishing in the feel of him against her as a whip of a breeze picked up.

“Was the Hall not suited to your studies today, Lady?” Uhtred asked with a slight smirk. “I was told the roof repairs caused a stir.”

“It was rather loud, Lord,” Lucia acquiesced with a glance spared to Ama, the nursemaid looking sheepish. “Stiorra was bound to go mad if we continued inside-”

“It was _horrible_ ,” the little girl shouted as if on cue. “Osbert kept crying and _crying_ -”

Uhtred turned to watch his daughter, his smirk dissolving to laughter as she knocked Tore to the ground with a triumphant cry of victory. He shook his head as he took a bite of his loaf, mouth full as he looked back to Lucia. “I can see this was the better choice-”

“Lord- your daughter is ravaging our army,” Sihtric called as Young Uhtred dashed around his legs, avoiding another wild attack from his sister. 

There was a flash of pride across Uhtred’s face as he rose to his feet, wiping his hands on his trousers. “I know it is not possible but sometimes I see Brida in her-”

Osferth looked up from his writing with wide eyes. “Lord- but Brida is terrifying.”

“She is,” Uhtred grinned. “And may my daughter be as well to every man she meets.”

He ruffled his hand through Osferth’s hair before running off to join the fray.

Lucia’s brow furrowed at the name she could not place, shifting against Finan’s embrace. He coughed a bit of laughter, and Osferth shook his head with a roll of his eyes. “Who is he talking about?” she asked.

“Brida is-” But Finan trailed off for a moment as he seemed to search for the word, instead taking a piece of apple from the plate before them. “An old _friend_ of Uhtred’s- a wild woman, she is, and as fierce a shieldmaiden as I’ve ever seen. I like her-”

“She scares me,” Osferth said simply. 

“Aye and yer a good man to admit it,” Finan grinned and the two men fell into laughter. 

Although the time for lunch came and went, none of them left the hilltop that afternoon. Sihtric and Uhtred were in a battle of wills with the children, the group stalking around each other in some kind of war game while Ealhswith and Ama managed the babies still on the blanket. Osbert was currently trying to climb over Finan’s shoulders when Osferth finally slid his parchment to Lucia. There were more than a few crossed out bits, and some smudges near the beginning but it looked like a proper translation- a quality of work Lucia had become accustomed to over the last few months. She took a quick read over it, impressed with the effort in his grammar. 

“Osferth, will you read your verse to us?” Lucia asked as she handed back the parchment. “You’ve done a lovely job with the translation.”

The monk only stared at her request, his lips twisting sideways as he reached for the sheet.

“Are you sure?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. 

“Go on, Osferth,” Ama nudged, her hand reaching for his shoulder. “I would like to hear it.”

Finan’s hand grazed against Lucia’s where it rest on the blanket and she twisted her neck to spare him a glance, tilting her head in warning as a smile spread across the Irishman’s face, though it did not help that Osbert was now crawling into his lap, reaching for his beard like it was a plaything. 

“Aye, read to us, baby monk,” Finan nodded as he pried the baby’s fingers from his chin.

Osferth cleared his throat as he held the parchment in both hands and it was not lost on Lucia how tightly he gripped the page as it crinkled in his grasp. “ _Quia in laetitia egrediemini, et in pace- deducemini montes et colles cantabunt coram vobis laudem, et omnia ligna regionis plaudent manu_.”

Lucia’s smile grew with each word, his pronunciation feeling very familiar to her own, and by the time he finished she was beaming. It felt good to see such a growth in him. “I never know why you get so flustered when you are actually quite impressive when you try,” she said with a knowing glance. 

The monk blushed as he leaned back on the heels of his hands, but there was no denying the flicker of pride that shone across his face. 

Perhaps it was his reading that distracted the children but the game seemed to come to an end while Osferth was reciting his verse and two very tired warriors dropped down onto the blanket. Sihtric rested his head in Eahlswith’s lap as he reached for his daughter, holding Revna up in the air with a wide smile as he cooed at her. 

“What’s that he said?” Stiorra asked from the edge of the blanket.

The girl took long steps across the blanket to fit herself in Lucia’s lap. She pulled a stray piece of grass from Stiorra's bangs before she considered the question. She watched as Uhtred plucked more cheese from the platter from where he now lay on his side but he made no effort to intercede so she glanced back down to Stiorra with another smile. 

“It’s from a story that Osferth and I have been studying for his Latin lessons,” she started, fingers idly brushing through her tangles. “It’s about freedom and peace and nature- when you feel at peace, the world around you will rejoice-” 

But the sudden and sure sound of hooves distracted her from her thoughts, the ground a soft rumble beneath them. Lucia’s heart caught in her throat, the sound all too familiar to the morning Haesten and his men arrived in Coccham. The men around her sprang into action, Revna back in Ealhswith’s arms, swords suddenly drawn- but it was only for a moment before they calmed. The familiar flags of Wessex broke through the edge of the wood followed closely by the flags of Mercia and the groans that emit from the lips of Uhtred and Finan seem to be in lockstep. Lucia’s brow furrowed as she spied King Edward and Lady Aethelflaed riding toward the gates. 

“So much for that peace,” Sihtic sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who doesn't love a picnic?? Writing nearly everyone together was a bit of a tricky puzzle but I really loved writing this chapter! Thank you guys so much for reading! ❤️


	22. i've had dreams of you in places i've not seen before

_“They have grown too bold-”_

Lucia toyed with the frayed strand of a ragdoll’s hair, twisting the yarn around her finger as she tried to listen to the conversation beyond the walls, her footsteps working away at the hardwood beneath her as she paced back and forth. Her brow furrowed as she tried to decipher the words that followed but the voice had trailed off. Osbert tugged at her skirt and she glanced down at the boy with a small smile- he was all energy after waking from his nap and had decided she was to be his next target. She scooped him into her arms and he latched onto her neck as she bounced him on her hip.

“Thank you, Lady,” Ama said quietly from where she was sitting with Stiorra in her lap, gently running a brush through the little girl’s hair. “It was kind of you to stay with us-”

They were tucked away in the back bedroom the children shared, Young Uhtred lazing on his bed with Lucia’s copy of the Bible, picking through the pages curiously, while Ama and Stiorra sat on the other, the young girl fidgeting against the brush and yelping at every tangle the nursemaid worked at. 

“Truth be told, I am trying to eavesdrop,” Lucia admitted sheepishly. “But there are worse ways to do so, I assure you.” 

She nuzzled her nose against Osbert’s cheek and the baby began to giggle. 

_“We must make a show of strength-”_

She heard the scraping of chairs and her nose wrinkled as she tried to imagine what was happening in the Main Hall. Her frustration at being kept from the conversation settled into her features as she heard a particularly pretentious voice argue- Lord Aethelhelm, the man so keen on ignoring the problem of the raiders when Uhtred raised his concerns was now leading the charge on attacking. 

“What happened to peace?” came Uhtred’s voice, steady and even.

“Will they fight again?” Ama asked, looking to Lucia with concern. 

“I do not know,” she replied, shaking her head. “Our men here have only just recovered from the last battle-”

But that was the way, wasn’t it? Eahlswith had warned her of this the night the men rode off for Headington. There would be months where Uhtred and his men were off fighting, miles from Coccham, miles from their homes and their families. Perhaps Lucia had been lucky to have such a long summer with Finan, perhaps the peace was waning and the winter would be a harsh one with him gone. She shifted Osbert to her other hip, trying to avoid that dark thought as it fought to find residence in her mind. Young Uhtred sighed as he closed the book, crossing his arms against his chest.

“Why can I not go outside with Tore?” he asked.

“Your father has very important guests,” Ama said as she began to tie intricate braids into Stiorra’s hair, separating her strands into three sections and working a twist into each. “And he would like you to stay out of trouble while they discuss important matters.”

“But why?” Young Uhtred continued, shoulders sagging.

“Because you often find yourself in predicaments that require your father’s attention,” the nursemaid said with a narrowed but playful glance. “Perhaps he does not want a repeat of the onion fields while the King is here-”

Stiorra began to giggle, pressing her hands to her mouth to stifle her laughter.

“That was not my fault,” Young Uhtred grumbled. 

“I am sure you will be allowed outside soon enough, young one,” Ama said with a smile.

“Lady, if you will humor me, I do believe an attack in East Anglia would put too many Mercians at risk-” Aldhelm’s voice interrupted and Lucia perked, inching closer to the door. “We are the ones who share the border and will shoulder much of the retaliation if we are not successful.”

“Do you assume we will fail?” There was a slight pitch to the King’s voice in his response.

“Lord King, Cnut’s numbers are strong and they know the lands,” Finan said, gently, and Lucia’s chest felt tighten at the sound of his voice. “If we make a strike now- we might be riskin’ the good men of Wessex as well-”

“Cnut does not want a fight,” Uhtred sighed. “He is happy with peace- at least for now. I have been told Haesten and his remaining men have retreated into their ranks, they fear they look weak and will not attempt again-”

“Then what is it you propose, Lord Uhtred?” the King asked.

But Lucia could not make out the response and she grit her teeth as she heard the scraping of more chairs before silence filled the Main Hall. She turned to look back to Ama, the nursemaid still working at Stiorra’s hair with a quiet finesse. She only looked away from her task to offer Lucia a gentle smile. “May the Gods bless us.”

\--

The kitchen was buzzing with activity as servants worked to prepare a meal for the dozens of men that rode into Coccham with King Edward and Lady Aethelflaed. The unexpected visit left the head of the house staff frenzied and Lucia could sense the tension in the room even without seeing the offended party, knowing that Audun was probably knee deep in their food supply seeking ingredients. It was a sharp shift from the pleasant and playful mood that had befallen them during their afternoon picnic. Still, as she navigated through the guards mingling within the Main Hall to find Finan, Lucia had a feeling Ursula would be pleased to see a full inn for the evening. Coccham could use the income with all the silver they’d spent on repairs.

“Lady Lucia-”

The soft but commanding voice caught her off-guard and she spun on her heel to find Lady Aethelflaed just behind her, dressed in a stunning silver riding outfit and a cape just off her shoulders. The Lady of Mercia took careful steps through the crowd of men and Lucia could not help but straighten her posture just slightly as she looked up to meet the taller woman’s gaze. Some part of her would always feel small in her presence. 

“Lord Uhtred tells me there is to be a wedding,” Lady Aethelflaed continued as she reached her. “I am so delightfully happy for you and Finan. Have you decided when?”

“We have not,” she admitted, smiling in spite of herself, as she tugged at her ear. “But I suppose it shall have to be soon if I am to send him off to battle once again-”

Lady Aethelflaed tilted her head as she considered Lucia, a small smirk tugging at her lips. 

“You might be in luck,” the Lady of Mercia said. “I believe Lord Uhtred has convinced my brother to stand down for the time being.”

“Really? Are you certain?” Lucia could not help the way her eyes lit up at the news and she laughed at her own reaction. “I am sorry- I am sure that conversation was likely very delicate-”

As if she was not practically pressing her ear up against the door to hear it herself.

“Among these men?” Aethelflaed laughed brightly. “No, it was like many dogs barking for attention-”

“I do resent that comparison, Lady,” came a deep voice from behind them.

Lord Aldhelm appeared with two cups in his hands and a hint of something playful in his expression as he reached them, nodding his head in greeting to Lucia as he stood beside his Lady. Lady Aethelflaed took her cup with an amused twist of her lips, her eyes meeting Lucia’s conspiratorially. Lord Aldhelm merely sighed as he took a sip of his ale.

“But she is not entirely incorrect,” he said after a hefty drink.

Lucia laughed at the admission, wondering if the rumors she had heard about Lord Aldhelm and Lady Aethelflaed were true, their candor and comfort among each other apparent. “Well, I am pleased we might keep our men here a little bit longer. Finan has only just recovered from the attack-”

“Finan was hurt?” Lady Aethelflaed asked, surprised, concern flickering across her features. 

“Yes, Lady,” she replied, brow furrowing, unsure if she had just revealed something she should not have. “But he is strong and has fared well, thank God.”

“Of course. Still, I am sorry, I do know how troubling that can be,” the Lady of Mercia said, and she reached for Lucia’s hand, squeezing gently with a soft smile. She turned her attention to the man beside her. “Lord Aldhelm, would you please arrange for a messenger to reach my husband? I would like him to know of our decision.”

“Yes, Lady,” Lord Aldhelm replied, though there was a flicker of something Lucia could not name across his features before he moved back through the crowd. 

“Forgive me, Lady Lucia, for I will speak plainly,” Lady Aethelflaed said, dipping her head toward her. “Lord Uhtred is not so forthcoming in his letters, I’m afraid. Is _he_ well? I do find myself worrying about him.”

Lucia pressed her lips together as she considered the other woman, trying to find the right words without betraying Uhtred’s ego or confidence. “Lord Uhtred takes pride in Coccham, Lady. And he is good to his people. He has been focused on repairs and fortifying our walls- and he is handling quite a lot by himself. It is bound to wear on him.”

“That is what concerns me,” Lady Aethelflaed replied and her eyes looked beyond Lucia, traveling from one side of the room to the other before settling on something, or someone. “Will you excuse me?”

Lucia nodded, stepping aside as Lady Aethelflaed moved past her, and as she followed the Lady of Mercia’s line of sight, noticed Uhtred in conversation with Father Beocca and King Edward on the other side of the room. She sighed, raking her fingers through her hair, wondering if she had helped her Lord or made his life more difficult. 

A blond figure suddenly entered her peripheral and she could not help but smile as Hild reached her. “You are a sight for sore eyes,” she greeted. 

“Oh, you miss me, do you?” the abbess replied, raising her brows. “You are welcome to come back to the nunnery any time, Lucia. Perhaps even join prayer every once in a while-”

“You and Father Beocca have been talking, haven’t you?” she asked with a groan.

“It has been some time since you’ve visited,” Hild said softly, guiding Lucia away from the crowd and toward the staircase that led to the loft, a quieter spot with less men lingering about. “Is there something you might want to talk about?”

“That is the problem,” Lucia said, haplessly. “There is too much to say and yet I cannot find the right words in which to explain myself.”

“You are putting far too much pressure on yourself,” the abbess replied with a hitch of her brow. “The Lord does not need words.”

“But I do,” she told her with a wave of her hands. “I’ve been a mess of thoughts since Finan’s-” She caught herself, sighing as she raked her fingers through her hair. “You know, I am just a little out of sorts-”

Hild tilted her head as she considered Lucia. “It’s alright, you can take your time. But know that if you feel angry or regretful or guilty, there is no reason to hide that- however complicated it all might seem.”

Lucia rubbed her hand against her face, shaking her head with a groan rather unbecoming.

“I am tired of being complicated,” she laughed dully.

“I am afraid that bit doesn’t go away,” Hild soothed, and there was a sadness behind her eyes that caught Lucia off guard for a moment. “But you find ways to manage.”

\--

The sun began its descent earlier and earlier as autumn crept upon them and the evening sky was a delicious mixture of oranges and blues as Lucia left the Main Hall, the din of the men fading to a soft chatter as the doors swung shut behind her. She sucked in a breath, the cool air hitting her lungs as she wrapped her arms around her body, eyes drifting briefly to the sun as it lowered itself behind the hill. A figure beyond the gates caught her attention and a smile pulled at the corners of her mouth as she spied the exact person she was looking for, watching as the Irishman dolled out instructions to the night’s watch.

Some of the men, a few of those chosen to stay behind and guard Coccham, were still antsy following Haesten’s attack. For many of them, it had been their first real foray into battle and, without Uhtred and Finan to lead them, felt like they had let the village down. But the Ealdorman of Coccham held only himself responsible in that regard, Lucia knew. 

Still, the guard had been eager for Finan’s return, the Irishman one of the few to instill a quiet confidence among them when Uhtred could not be present. He was stern in his training but comfortable with them and patient in ways Uhtred could no longer be. Uhtred had told her more than once how crucial Finan was to the men’s morale and it was obvious in the way they ran to him for advice or asked questions or even in the intent ways they listened to him while he gave instruction.

A younger man, still a boy in her mind, hesitated as the rest of the guard moved toward the watchtower. Finan dipped his head to speak to him, his hand clutching at his shoulder as he gave him a good-natured smile and words Lucia could not decipher. Then, with a clap and a nudge toward the ladder, watched after him with a slow shake of his head and a chuckle. 

He gave a soft sigh before he shifted his attention toward her and Lucia knew she was caught staring when she noticed the playful gleam behind his eye, his brows wriggling as he hooked his thumbs in his belt, head tilting as he considered her. 

“Are ya gonna stand there and watch me all night?” he called to her.

She smiled widely even as a flush of heat hit her cheeks, and she clasped her hands behind her back as she dug the heel of her boot into the ground. “What if I like the view?” she called back.

“Will ya just come ‘ere?” he laughed, gesturing for her. 

She crossed the courtyard with exaggerated steps as Finan’s laughter continued, the sound infectious and she couldn’t help the giggle that spilled from her lips. She met him where he stood between the open gates, and she could feel coolness settle into the air as she drew closer to the river. He did not hesitate to reach for her, his hands cupping around her upper arms as he bent to kiss her. She laughed against his mouth, turning the kiss sloppy, but that did not stop her from leaning into it with abandon. 

“Yer in good spirits,” he smiled, his hand reaching to tuck her hair behind her ear. 

“You are staying home,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist. 

“Ah, what little birdy told ya that?” he asked, his hands running up and down her arms idly.

“Lady Aethelflaed,” Lucia said and she tilted her head back to catch his gaze, a smirk twisting at her features. “When she offered her congratulations on our impending wedding- you know, the one we’ve yet to actually plan.

“Oh, _that_ -” he grinned. 

He peeled her arms from around his waist and tilted his head toward the water.

“I’ve an idea about that,” he said as he reached for her hand, his fingers interlacing with her own as he led her beyond the walls and toward the river. “Had a bit of a chat with Uhtred just now-”

“Oh?” Lucia hitched a brow as she followed after him. “Did he rescind his blessing?”

Finan twisted his neck to look back at her, his eyes rolling. “Yer funny.”

“Sometimes,” she admitted.

It was growing darker and the torches that lined the dock were a welcome sight, the flickering of the flames reflecting off the steady water of the River Thames. In the few months that Coccham had become home to Lucia, she had spent little, if any, time near the dock. Outside of her nighttime tryst with Finan, she had been happy to stay within the walls. But now, as they settled down, legs dangling over the edge, she couldn’t help but wonder why she’d avoided it. 

The way the night sky shone above them was enough to capture her attention as she rested her hands back behind her, palms flat against the wooden planks. 

“I’ve been thinkin’ we should do it tomorrow-” Finan said after a moment. 

“Do what tomorrow?” she asked, distracted, eyes tracing the constellations. 

“Get married,” he said, emphasizing the words as he shifted beside her.

Her brow furrowed as she twisted in her spot to face him. “You’re serious? We can do that?”

Another shake of laughter spilled from Finan as he reached for her. His hand cupped gently around her chin, thumb running across the line of her jaw. “Darlin’, we can do it right now if we wanted- All I’ve gotta do is fetch Beocca.” 

Lucia felt a pull of something in her chest, a warmth radiating from within her, and she smiled, a breath of laughter escaping her lips. 

“Tomorrow is good,” she said, nodding her head. “Tomorrow is perfect.”

Finan breathed a sigh, perhaps something akin to relief, as he leaned his forehead against hers, his hand resting at the nape of her neck. “The idea of havin’ to ride off again- I didn’t wanna go through that gate without knowin’ you were my wife-” 

“I am yours no matter the title,” she confessed, her hand curving around his thigh. “I have been since the day you kissed me in the stables.”

He pulled back, his eyes studying her own. There was a twitch to his lips, a soft sort of half-smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. She loved that face, she loved every detail, right down to the tiniest of freckles. Lucia tilted her head, letting her mouth press soft kisses against the face she loved so much- his lips, his nose, his forehead. Finan sighed in pleasure as she paid tribute. She had known from the very moment he first touched her, the way his fingers set a shock through her system, awakening every nerve- she was his, she would never be anyone else’s. 

“But I do think ‘ _wife’_ has a nice ring to it,” she added, softly.

“Aye, it does,” he said, breathlessly.

She pinched playfully at his thigh, emitting a hiss of breath from the Irishman, her hand grazing further up his leg. “There are just a few things we ought to discuss before tomorrow-”

“Oh?” he asked, his eyes glancing down at her hand as she trailed her fingers up and down the hard muscle. “What’s that?”

“I want chickens,” she said.

His gaze snapped back toward her. “You want what?”

“Chickens,” she repeated. “At least two- and I would also like to continue tutoring Lord Uhtred’s children. Even when we have our _own_ children, I will want to work. I enjoy it. I cannot just be a housewife, not now-” 

“ _When_ we have children?” Finan asked.

“Of course!” Lucia laughed before she thought to the sons left in Irland and her features tightened, a frown tugging at her lips. Perhaps she had spoke too quickly. “I mean, unless, you don’t-” 

“I do,” he said quickly, and he was smiling so wide his eyes looked like they were set to disappear. “At least two- to counter the chickens-” 

She let out a shock of laughter. “That is a fair negotiation, my love.” 

“There’s somethin’ else,” he said, and his brow wrinkled as he straightened his posture, his hands resting beside him, his fingers tapping gently at the plank beneath him. “I want ya to teach me Latin.”

“You do?” Lucia asked, not bothering to hide her surprise. 

“Aye, it’s your mother tongue,” he continued. “And if ya can teach Osferth, ya can teach me.”

“Finan, I would love to share that with you,” she told him, pressing her hand against her chest, her heart thumping steadily beneath her palm. 

“Well- I’d also like to maybe teach ya my own language,” he offered, and for a moment he could not meet her eyes and Lucia reached for him, fingers tilting his chin in her direction. “Ya said our souls were brought together- and I haven’t stopped thinkin’ about it- ya know, neither of us should be here and yet we are-” He laughed, raking his hand through his hair, flattening a particularly ruthless cowlick. “I just don’t want us to lose the good bits of our past, ya know?”

“I know,” she said, kissing him softly. “I want to learn.” 

“Good, alright, great-” And there was something boyish about the smile on his face that made Lucia’s heart swell. “We’re settled, then?”

“I think so,” she nodded, resting her forehead against his. “Let’s get married.”

“Erm- well, before that happens, um, dinner’s ready-”

Finan and Lucia peeled themselves away from each other to turn and look back toward the wall to find Osferth standing there, his hands wringing against his chest. Lucia was grateful for the cover of darkness as she was almost certain her skin had turned a slight pink. It was impossible to miss the bemused expression on the monk’s face, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips as he gestured back toward the Main Hall. 

“I thought I’d come search for you,” Osferth continued. 

“Bless ya, baby monk,” Finan said as he rose from his spot. He held his hand out for Lucia and helped her to her feet. “We’re comin’-” 

“I am a very good student, you know,” the monk said to the Irishman. “Aren’t I?"

She laughed. “Osferth, you are very easy to teach.”

“Let’s see if she says that about you, Irishman.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are we finally getting a wedding???


	23. every color of your love i’ve seen enough i want another

“Ealhswith, where on Earth did you find this?” 

Lucia smoothed her hands down the soft brocade fabric of what was likely a very expensive dress as her friend hovered behind her. A pin rested between Ealhswith’s lips as she tugged at the waist, pinching the extra fabric between her thumb and index finger. She plucked the pin from her mouth and marked her spot, a smirk twisting at her features.

“I fear I would scandalize you if I told you-”

Lucia twisted as she stood in front of the ful-length mirror, tilting her head as she studied her reflection. The dress was a deep plum with hints of gold hidden in the stitching, the sunlight streaming through the window catching certain threads as she swayed her hips. She brushed her fingers across the embroidery at the neckline, the cut wide and open, barely covering her shoulders. The sleeves were made of something of a lighter silk, stitched so fine they felt weightless against her arms.

“It is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever worn,” she marveled, blinking the sting of tears back, cursing herself for already feeling so sentimental. “You can’t possibly part with this- it’s too much, Ealhswith.” 

“Don’t be silly,” Ealhswith shook her head. “It is a wedding gift.”

“It is extremely generous-” Lucia began but Ealhswith was quick to interrupt.

“It is from another lifetime and frankly, never suited my fair complexion.”

“I do not see how that is possible,” Lucia laughed, rubbing at her eyes with the back of her hand. “But I will no longer argue, for there really is nothing in my wardrobe fit for a wedding, especially one planned overnight.”

“Poor Audun,” Ealhswith clicked her tongue. “Two feasts in two days. Ursula will have to keep him plied with ale to ensure he does not go mad.”

Lucia laughed, though it was strained as the other woman pinched again at the waist, drawing it even tighter on the other side. “Am I to breathe during this ceremony?” she gasped.

“You have a shape, Lucia,” Ealhswith said with a roll of her eyes. “If there is one day to show it off, it is today- soon you will be round in the middle after a few babes and you will miss it.”

Her eyes flickered to her friend’s reflection in the mirror as she pressed her hand flat to her belly, her lips catching in her teeth as she gave a small, apprehensive shrug. “How soon is too soon, do you think?”

Ealhswith’s eyes widened. 

“Are you certain?” she asked. 

“No-” Lucia shook her head, laughing slightly, her skin feeling flush. “No, I’m not certain at all but it has been more than a moon since my last bleed, and these feel _enormous_ -” she said, gesturing to her breasts. 

“We must fetch Mathilda. She will be able to tell you just by sight, I swear it,” Ealhswith said as she began to thread her needle. “It was how she knew I had Revna in my belly. I hadn’t thought it was possible- there had been so many losses- we thought Tore would be our only- well, he was not-”

Her friend’s hand faltered for a moment and Lucia reached for her, hand curling around hers. Ealhswith met her gaze with a soft smile, her bright eyes unblinking as she nodded. She and Sihtric had tried for more children following Tore but there were some attempts that did not take and the pain of the last one had nearly cost Sihtric his wife. Revna had been a miracle, Sihtric said, something they never planned for. Ealhswith shook her head, eyes blinking as she duckied her shoulders to reach for the pinned side of the dress.

“It is a blessing you are getting married today,” she continued, then, her fingers working deftly at the alterations on the bodice. “No one will be the wiser when a baby comes before the next summer ends.”

“Next summer-” 

It felt strange to think about the passing of time, as if she had not spent thirteen years of her life living in a kind of cruel stangnacy, waking up to the same chores, the same masters, the same brutal life. In just a few short, hot, crazed months, everything had changed. She swallowed as she stared at the woman who stood before her in the mirror, the one who earned her own wage, who lived in her own home- the one who was about to be married to a man of her own choosing. The way she had been given the gift of choice since that moment Uhtred and his men found her in the woods was not lost on her. 

“Will I be a good mother?” she asked, fingernails digging into the palms of her hands. 

“You are already a good mother,” Ealhswith said with a narrowed glance. 

Lucia’s brows furrowed as she caught Ealhswith’s gaze in the mirror. 

“Lord Uhtred’s children adore you, Lucia,” Ealhswith told her. “You are patient with them and they listen to you when you speak which is much more than I can say for my own little devil- You will be just fine with one of your own.” 

“But they’re not so _new_ ,” Lucia argued though she knew it was a weak attempt. “What if the men are called to battle once again? And I am just alone with this tiny creature?”

“Then you will have me,” Ealhswith said, poking Lucia’s side playfully. “And the rest of us women who are left behind in order to keep this village functioning. It is what we do.” 

Just then, a door swung shut and the sound rattled through the small cottage. Ealhswith’s brows narrowed once more as she tried to deduce the visitor, the needle and thread dangling from the fabric of the dress as she checked on their new arrival. She returned only a moment later with Hild on her heels, the abbess carrying a mess of ribbon in her hand and pleasantries spilling from her lips as she greeted Ealhswith. When she entered the bedroom, her eyes fell to Lucia and her lips parted in surprise. 

“Oh, Lucia, you look beautiful,” Hild said, words soft.

Lucia laughed, her cheeks feeling warm. “It is this dress,” she said, running her hands over the fabric. “Isn’t it something?”

“It is _you_ ,” Hild said with a knowing glance, laughter tingeing her tone. “Though, the dress is quite lovely. I see now why you asked for this color ribbon, Ealhswith.”

“It will match the sleeves perfectly,” Ealhswith said as she took a closer peek at the purple ribbon. “Will you begin? I am off to fetch Mathilda-” 

“Mathilda?” Hild questioned, eyes darting back and forth between Lucia and Ealhswith curiously. “Is everything alright?”

“ _Someone_ thinks she might be with child,” Ealhswith said casually as she strode across the room, only turning back to eye Lucia with a playful wink of her eye. “And we must be certain, mustn't we?” 

“Is this true?” the abbess asked, brows raising.

“Oh, you look as surprised as Ealhswith,” Lucia groaned.

“Well- I- _might_ be surprised,” Hild relented, laughing softly. “But an insignificant amount. It is wonderful news! Finan must be thrilled-”

“Oh, no- he does not yet know,” she said, shaking her head, her gaze shifting to the floor. “I have only just considered it this morning- I woke feeling rather ill and I thought it was nerves but, perhaps it is not.” 

“He _will_ be thrilled,” Hild said with a nod of her head. “Now, please sit so I can tame this lion’s mane-”

\--

“Is she ready?”

Lucia pressed her lips together as she took one last look in the mirror, one last look at herself as she was- a young woman who was about to walk outside into a courtyard filled with the people who had become her family, who had filled a space in her heart she thought had been forgotten. She could not help the warmth that tingled her skin when she thought of how loved she felt, and how excited she was to share her happiness with those waiting for her outside. 

She only wished her mother and father were there to share it with her. 

She sucked in a breath, letting the air fill her lungs before she exhaled, her hand resting again at her belly. “I am coming-” she called, her hand grazing gingerly at the intricate braid Hild had woven into her hair, the soft ribbon weaved throughout, giving peeks of plum among her chestnut locks.

Uhtred and Hild stood close to each other, the abbess whispering something to him as Lucia entered the room. He looked up as the floorboards creaked beneath her step and there was something familiar behind his eyes when she met his gaze, a tenderness to his smile that brought a tightness to her chest. The abbess nudged his side and he cleared his throat as Lucia crossed the room, his hand shoving forward a small wooden box.

“A gift-” he said, with a tight nod. 

Lucia peeked up at him curiously. “For me? Really?”

“Go on,” he said, his features softening. 

She took the box in her hand, marveling briefly at the intricate engravings in the lid. It was freshly whittled and rather impressive in its design, but Lucia could feel something shift inside. She glanced up again at Uhtred, and she could swear there was something akin to pride in his expression as he watched her. When she opened it, she could not help the gasp that passed through her lips. Laying on a small pillow of fabric was a golden arm ring, something she had seen only the men in Uhtred’s guard wear.

“Lord?” she asked, her fingers curving around the piece curiously.

“May I?” Uhtred asked quietly as he held his hand out for the ring. 

She obliged and watched as he reached for her hand and gently slid the bracelet over her wrist and up her forearm where it rested just above her elbow, his fingers twitching slightly at the touch. 

“You helped save my children. You helped protect this village when I could not, and for that I am grateful. You are a warrior, and one I would be happy to have by my side in any battle. You will always have my protection, Lady Lucia, and this is a token of that.”

She could feel the tears well again and she blinked, her throat feeling tight as she tried to will herself not to cry. She pressed herself up on her toes and threw her arms around Uhtred’s shoulders, hugging him tightly. The man staggered just slightly under her movements, a surprised bit of laughter catching in his throat.

“Thank you,” she breathed. “You have given me a home, Uhtred. I will always be thankful.”

“I am glad,” he said, and his embrace was warm and strong.

“Should we go, then?” Hild suggested with a soft clearing of her throat.

“Yes,” Lucia said as she rested back on the flat of her feet, her hands smoothing at her dress. “I do think I have kept everyone waiting long enough-”

\--

The air was cool as Lucia stepped into the courtyard, the midday sun peeking from behind a thick cloud as her eyes adjusted. She squinted before sparing Uhtred a glance as he stepped beside her, his arm held out for her to take. He nodded his head as she took hold of him. She was grateful for his support because as she took in the sight of the crowded courtyard, her heart seemed to stop in her chest. Ealhswith and Ama had been right, it seemed- the village needed a celebration- and the townsfolk were out in their finest, mingling and chatting amiably as they waited for the festivities to begin. 

“You might consider building a bigger church, Lord,” Hild said as she turned back to look at them both, her eyes wriggling playfully. “It seems we have outgrown our little chapel-”

Uhtred sighed, “You would do better to ask me after a few cups of ale.”

“Do not think I won’t,” Hild replied with a knowing glance.

It did not take them very long to reach the small, ramshackle chapel and Lucia wondered if Uhtred would concede to Hild’s point eventually- it really could do with a bit of attention, especially as it had been conveniently left off the list of repairs following Haesten’s attack. Still, knowing he built it with his own hands for the abbess was one of the most endearing things about the Half-Saxon and Half-Dane, the man caught between two worlds. Lucia knew he would likely forever befuddle her in one way or another, and perhaps that was what she liked best about him.

Shouts of congratulations and beaming smiles from the villagers that spilled from the chapel caught Lucia’s attention and she could not help the wide grin that tugged at her lips, even if it felt as if all the breath had been swept from her lungs. Her fingers flexed at her side as they reached the front door, Hild stepping forward to make way for Uhtred to lead Lucia inside. 

“You will take care of him?”

Uhtred’s voice was quiet, almost too soft amongst the bustle of excitement from the villagers around them and Lucia twisted her neck to look up at him, wondering if she heard him correctly.

“Lord?”

“Of Finan-” he gestured sheepishly, his head tilting toward the church. “He is too stubborn to admit he needs it. But, he does-” 

Her features softened, a laugh spilling from her lips as she reached to grip his arm, squeezing him gently. “Yes, Uhtred, I will. I promise.”

“Good,” he smiled. “Then perhaps it is time to get you inside.”

The chapel was crowded and it took Lucia a moment to find the faces she loved the most- Osferth and Ama stood to the left, Young Uhtred, Stiorra, and Osbert all crowded around their legs. Sihtric stood beside them, his arm wrapped around his wife’s waist, Revna cradled in Ealshwith’s arms while Tore lingered in front of his father. Mathilda watched her with an attentive eye from the right, the novices of Hild’s nunnery huddled beside her, Sister Sarah offering her a wink as Lucia walked down the makeshift aisle and she could not help the laughter that caught in her throat. 

It was here that Uhtred let her walk alone. He pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, his hand resting on the small of her back and she nodded, wondering if it was possible to convey the affection she felt for him in a single glance. She watched as he whisked Osbert from where the little boy stood and cradled him on his hip. Hild ducked past her, the abbess giving Lucia’s hand a small squeeze before she made her way through the crowd, Ursula shifting to make room for her.

There were some guests she did not expect- King Edward stood near the front, and beside him was his sister. Lord Aldhelm stood behind the Lady Aethelflaed, and Steapa was towering over them all, a giant man impossible to miss and thankfully hiding the Lord Aethelhelm from her direct view, though the small and older man was still right beside the King. She had expected the King and the Lady of Mercia to ride home earlier that morning but how could she ever feel anything but honor at literal royalty attending her wedding? 

The chatter among the villagers quieted as Lucia began her descent down the aisle and the silence rattled her nerves, Lucia not quite sure she had ever been the focus of so much attention at once before. It was unnerving and she almost wondered if it would have been easier to just elope in the nighttime. But as she neared the altar, there was only one person that could draw her focus- and suddenly it felt like they were the only two in the chapel at all. 

The Irishman was staring directly at her, his hands drawn in prayer as they pressed to his lips, and the warmth behind his eyes helped to dissolve her nerves, calming her heartbeat as she reached him. Finan turned to face her, their bodies so close, it took all Lucia’s willpower not to kiss him just then. He smelled like fresh lavender soap and his hair was trimmed neatly around his ears, and she could not think of a time that he looked more handsome. 

“Yer beautiful,” he said as he bent toward her slightly, his voice soft against her ear.

“You smell good,” she whispered with a smile, leaning her head toward his. 

“Ealhswith threatened death if I did not bathe,” he grinned.

Suddenly, Beocca cleared his throat from where he stood at the pulpit, the priest dressed in robes Lucia had never seen before- a beautiful kind of silver and charcoal embroidery with broad sleeves. He eyed them both, a twinkle of something flashing across his features as he tilted his head. “Might we begin?” he asked.

“Aye, Father,” Finan said. “What’re ya waitin’ for?”

Beocca huffed a breath of laughter as he stepped toward them and they both turned to better face him, their shoulders brushing against one another as they shifted. He reached for their hands and brought them together, placing Finan’s atop Lucia’s and she felt her skin grow warm as Finan laced their fingers together. 

She felt like she might crush his fingers with how tightly she held his hand.

“Lord God, in your heaven, we are humbly gathered before you on this day of thanks and celebration,” Beocca called out, his voice booming through the small chapel. Then, he turned- “Lord King, would you do us the honor?” 

Lucia watched with furrowed brows as King Edward excused himself from the crowd. Finan nudged her shoulder and there was a hint of pride in his features as the King approached them. Beocca handed Edward the fastening cords and took a step back as the King wordlessly wrapped the cords around their hands, a hesitant smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. He seemed nervous, not quite able to meet their gaze, and Lucia could not help but wonder if he had ever done this before.

Yet, here he was, blessing their marriage- Lucia could feel her throat grow tight and she wondered how embarrassing it would be to cry in front of the King of Wessex. 

“I am witness,” he said, his hands clasped around their own, his eyes flickering between them both and Lucia could not help but notice the softness behind them. “You are together, never to part, bound as man and wife.”

_Man and wife._

She looked to Finan only to find his gaze already upon her. She smiled, and the tears welling in her eyes began to blur her vision. She blinked and laughed softly as Finan reached to graze his thumb against her cheek, catching the tears as they fell. 

“Thank you, Lord King,” Beocca said.

The priest stepped toward them and took their fastened hands into his own embrace.

“Let us pray,” he began. “May God be with you and bless you. May you see your children’s children. May you be poor in misfortunes and rich in blessings. May you know nothing but happiness from this day forward.”

Beocca gave their hands a squeeze and then leaned forward to press a light kiss on Lucia’s cheek. Without hesitation, he leaned toward Finan and offered him the same, the Irishman chuckling at the affection. Lucia felt like she was smiling so wide her cheeks were beginning to sting at the effort. 

“You are now married,” Beocca grinned. “Go on- kiss your wife, Irishman-”

“Ya don’t have to tell me, Father-” 

And in an instant, she was pressed up against her now husband’s chest as his free hand curved tightly around her waist. She was happy to be in his embrace, her hand reaching to rest at the nape of his neck as he smiled down at her, only hesitating a moment to meet her eyes, before he kissed her. His mouth was warm and eager for her and she curled her fingers in his hair as the chapel erupted into cheers and it was all she could do not to laugh against his lips. 

“Yer my wife,” he breathed. 

“And you are my husband,” she replied, smiling broadly.

\--

The Main Hall was a frenzy of music and dancing and the din of villagers who were yelling at each other over the noise to join in on the festivities. It was such a drastic change from the last time the Main Hall was this crowded- the night Hasten attacked and the Main Hall became a makeshift home for the Healers and the injured- and Lucia couldn’t have been more pleased to see the smiles so infectious among her neighbors, even the usually stoic fabric merchant was dancing a jig with her husband as a few farmers played a lively tune. 

Garlands of wildflowers hung from the walls and the candles in the chandeliers let a soft warmth flicker against the ceiling, while the dining table was burdened with a feast that envied anything Lucia had ever seen before- even if the roasted wild boar that lay in the center gave her an unsettled feeling if she looked at it for too long. 

She had been in conversation with Sister Edweena and Sister Tate when she felt two strong arms curve around her waist and tug her gently back, a warm voice whispering against her ear. “I believe I owe ya a dance, Lady-”

Lucia smiled brightly, laughter spilling from her lips as his beard tickled her skin and a shiver ran through her spine. The younger novices bowed their head in a small blessing but she could see the pink that settled into their cheeks as they left the newlyweds with hushed giggles. 

She twisted in Finan’s arms. “You have made the novices blush!”

“Then I won’t tell ‘em what I plan to do to ya when I take ya home,” he said as he led her toward the center of the room, a wicked gleam behind his eyes.

Lucia pressed her lips together as she ruminated on the idea, a soft humming vibrating her lips. “Would anyone notice if we left now?” she asked, only half teasing. 

“I think they might, darlin’,” he laughed, his right hand reaching for her left. “But I do love the way ya think-”

Finan gave her a half bow as a smirk pulled at his lips. She could not help but mimic the action with a curtsy of her own, remembering his discomfort at the idea of dancing when she mentioned it to him all those months ago. It was endearing to her that he would attempt anyway for their wedding day. But as the music began to ramp up into the next song, he took the lead with a finesse that caught Lucia off guard. Her eyes narrowed as she began to follow his steps, studying his movements with amused disbelief. He was graceful in a way that should not have surprised her, Finan the Agile a name given with reason- but his movements were as studied as any she had seen. 

It was impossible to ignore the flush in her skin at the way he so easily led her, his hands strong against her waist as he twirled her around, and she suddenly wanted nothing more than to feel his hands on her in a thousand different ways in the privacy of their own bedroom.

“You are a good dancer,” she said after the song ended, needlessly.

They had wandered away from the makeshift dance floor, sneaking their way through the crowd to settle near the staircase that led to the loft, one of the only areas in the Main Hall that could afford them any quiet.

“Is that a question?” he asked, with a hitch of his brow.

“I believe I was told you were not,” she continued, looking up at him expectantly.

“Aye, well, nothin’ like a little secret to share on our weddin’ day,” he said, his hand reaching to tuck back a strand of hair that had since escaped from her braid during all her twirling. 

Her eyes closed as she leaned into his touch, his thumb grazing against the line of her jaw. She felt a little flutter in her chest at the word secret. She reached up, her fingers wrapping around his wrist as he cradled the side of her face. 

“If we are sharing secrets,” she began as she opened her eyes, Lucia trying to settle the nerves that had crawled into her skin. “There is something I ought to tell you.”

Finan’s brow furrowed as he met her gaze. “Is everythin’ alright?”

“I hope so,” she said, as she took his hand and placed it gently on her belly. “Because I am- well, we are going to have a baby.”

Finan blinked, his eyes flickering to where his hand rest against her stomach, his fingers flexing against the fabric. “Yer- wait- are ya sure?”

“Mathilda confirmed it this morning,” she nodded, swallowing. “She thinks it might even be a girl-”

“A girl?” Finan’s voice caught in his throat, and his eyes began to glisten in a way that filled her with a lightness she had not expected. He shook out a laugh. “Lucia- I- I’m so happy- bleatin’ hell, a girl?”

“I know,” Lucia laughed, her thumb reaching gently to wipe at his eyes. “It is too early to tell but Mathilda seems confident and you know how she is when she’s settled-” 

Her words brought another bark of laughter from him as he reached for her, his hands cupping at either side of her face as his dark eyes studied her, as if gauging whether or not this moment was real. He seemed to convince himself because he smiled at her, a smile so wide that little crinkle at the corner of his eyes began to appear. He kissed her gently and she smiled against his lips.

“I love ya, Lucia,” he said, before he kissed her again, this time more urgently. 

“Maybe it is time to take me home,” she told him, and the look behind his eyes was all she needed to lead him outside into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just casually sneaking in a baby, whoops!! Writing this was honestly so bittersweet, I'm so excited they're finally hitched but I realize how few chapters I have left! Again, thank you all for sticking around this long! ❤️


	24. you woke me up little sun

A flash of lightning illuminated the Main Hall, the midday sun all but impossible to see behind the thick and dark rain clouds that descended over Coccham, a sure sign that spring was soon approaching. Only a few seconds passed before a crash of thunder shook the walls and Stiorra let out a startled cry, using the moment to feint into a pile of furs, Young Uhtred and Tore laughing at her dramatics. The three older children had been cooped up for days now, torrential rains dampening any thought of outdoor play and they were growing restless- especially now that they were all old enough to learn sword skill from their fathers.

And very eager to do so at every hour of the day.

Lucia leaned back in her chair, hand curving around her middle as she watched them continue to play fight, wooden swords at the ready. Their studies had ended after lunch but Lucia found herself content to stay in the Main Hall, her pregnant belly willing her to linger by the warm fire until Finan returned to fetch her. Another flash of lightning followed by another crack of thunder and small hands were tugging at her skirts. She shifted her shoulders to glance down, a mop of dark brown curls and wide eyes peering at her from behind thick black lashes. 

Magdalena.

“Come here, _cara_ ,” Lucia soothed, reaching for her daughter. “Are you alright?”

“Too loud,” Magdalena said, face scrunching. 

As if on cue, thunder crackled again and the two year old buried her face in her mother’s chest, clinging to Lucia as the storm raged on. She wrapped her arms around her daughter, hand brushing at the back of her head, fingers playing with the ringlets that formed as she soothed her. Magdalena had thick and unruly hair, just like her father, but nothing of his calm and the days of rain had left her little one feeling anxious. 

“Where’s _daidí_?” Magdalena asked, voice muffled against the fabric of Lucia’s dress. 

“With Uncle Uhtred,” Lucia replied, smiling. “But they will be back soon, little one- it is almost time for supper-”

“Will this rain never cease?”

Ama moved slowly from the children’s bedroom, her hand pressed to the small of her back. She was nearly as pregnant as Lucia, perhaps only a month or so behind, and it had not been easy on her, sickness following her through every stage. Osbert followed at her heels- the little boy enamored with his nursemaid, and he reached for her hand as if to help her manage. She smiled down at him affectionately before they crossed the room to where Lucia sat, Ama sinking into the chair beside her.

“There is a chill anywhere that is not right here,” the nursemaid laughed. 

“Winter feels like it is everlasting,” Lucia agreed. 

“Papa says it only storms like this when Thor is real angry,” Osbert offered as he leaned against the arm of the chair where Ama sat, his feet fidgeting against the hardwoods. 

“Don’t be stupid- it is God,” Young Uhtred called from across the room with a roll of his bright eyes. “Job says that we must listen to the thunder of His voice- that it will bring us great things-”

“So why’s the field all flooded?” Osbert turned, eyes narrowing at his older brother.

“Well, I-”

But before Young Uhtred could continue, Stiorra let out a groan. “Can we just play?”

“Yeah, who cares, anyway,” Tore shrugged. “We’re still stuck inside-”

Lucia sucked in a breath, sparing Ama a glance as the children continued to bicker. She wasn’t quite sure when it happened, when Young Uhtred moved away from his Danish side and toward the God-fearing Saxon side, but the boy had done a rather abrupt turn. Much to his father’s chagrin. 

The doors to the Main Hall burst open just then, the wind helping along with the effort, and Lucia twisted her neck to see two sopping wet individuals skulk inside. She did her best to stifle her laughter as she watched her husband and Uhtred shake themselves free of the rainfall, the two men ringing out their tunics, neither of them looking at all pleased. Almost immediately the arguments among the children quieted, none of them particularly keen on Uhtred catching on to their disagreement. 

Magdalena perked up, crawling up Lucia’s shoulder at the noise.

“ _Daidí!_ ” 

Finan turned, his hand raking through wet hair, a smile forming at his lips when he noticed Magdalena’s head peeking from behind the back of the chair. 

“I thought ya might’ve gone home,” he said, taking the short steps toward them, Lucia shifting awkwardly in her chair as he approached. “It’s a bleatin’ nightmare out there-”

“I thought about it, but I am finding it more and more difficult to get up once I’ve sat down,” Lucia admitted.

Finan chuckled as he kissed her, and she could not help but sigh against the warmth of his lips, even if little flecks of water hit her nose as he leaned toward her. His hand curved gently against her cheek for a moment as he pulled back, his eyes bright as he caught her gaze. But their daughter was squirming in Lucia’s lap and reaching for her father. He squat down beside the chair just in time for Magdalena to dive into her father’s arms. He was quick to catch her, the Irishman rising back to his feet and tossing their daughter in the air, catching her and tugging her against him. Magdalena giggled, crying out at how wet his clothing was but not making any movements to leave her father’s arms.

“Were you good for mama today?” Finan asked, nuzzling at her cheek. 

Magdalena nodded. “I helped!”

“Did ya?” he replied, sparing a look to Lucia who merely shrugged, laughing softly as she watched them.

“Yes, she was my assistant today,” she told him, clutching at the arms of the chair as she moved to her feet. She felt wobbly but Uhtred was there to spot her as she stood, Lucia flushing pink at the needed support. “I fear I will need to be carted out of here at this rate-”

“Then do not leave,” Uhtred said, his hand still curled around her elbow. "Stay and join us for supper."

She smiled, her hand reaching for his as she nodded, “That would be lovely.”

She was grateful for the offer, the idea of cooking when it was hard for her to even reach around her stomach at this point seemed like her own personal idea of hell- and Finan was far more adept at the cleaning up than he was at the preparing. 

Though he tried, God bless his soul. 

The doors flung open again, and those inside the Main Hall flinched as they banged against the stone walls, the wind howling from the outside. Uhtred’s brow furrowed as Osferth came in, his robes soaking wet, his hand clutched to his chest as if he had run straight there. Ama shifted, turning to watch as her husband moved further into the Main Hall. 

“Sihtric and Edric have returned, Lord,” he panted. “And the news is- troubling-”

\--

“This is the only solution,” Uhtred said solemnly. “The children will go to Saltwic.”

It had been nearly three years since the attack on Coccham led by Haesten and in that time a peace had settled around Wessex and Mercia, as Uhtred assured King Edward it would. Lucia knew she had been spoiled to have Finan so close to home for so long, hardly gone longer than a week or so for hunting trips or scouting missions- even visits to Winchester included an invitation for herself to join. But no peace lasted forever, and Uhtred had been wary of news coming from merchants as they stopped at the dock to sell their wares. Rumors of Danes coming from Scotland, others from Irland - all seeking to rise up and make a name for themselves against the young King. 

And against Uhtred, The Dane-Slayer, especially.

The threats did not stay strictly with him, either, and comments about the children facilitated Sihtric’s eager rush to return to Coccham. 

Lucia shifted in her seat, discomfort beginning to settle into her lower back. She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she watched Uhtred, his face creasing in concern as his eyes shifted to where his children still played across the room, none of them the wiser on the topic of the conversation. A half sort of smile tugged at his lips as Stiorra fended off a hit from Tore. If there was to be a target placed on his back, his family could not be found in Coccham. 

“If that is what ya think is best, Lord,” Finan said. “We’ll take ‘em there ourselves, won’t we?”

The Irishman looked to Osferth and Sihtric, both men nodding their heads. They all knew the weight of this decision, the Main Hall filled with their children or their children-about-to-be. But the mood at the table was somber, the four men no doubt wondering what this could mean for them. Was a battle brewing with enemies unknown? Cnut was a familiar threat. These Danes were still lucky to have their anonymity and that was something Uhtred would not tolerate.

“We will travel at nightfall,” Sihtric said, his forearms resting against the back of the chair he was leaning against. “Use the cover of darkness without anyone knowing we’ve gone.”

“And we’ll leave men, have them work with that piss poor Mercian guard,” Finan sighed, hand tugging at his beard as his brow furrowed. “We’ll make sure that all protections are in place.”

“When will we leave?” Osferth asked, his eyes shifting to where Ama sat still with Osbert and Magdalena, the children giggling over something the nursemaid whispered to them.

Uhtred leaned back, his hands rubbing at his face as he considered the monk’s question. 

“Soon-” He frowned, leaning forward as if unable to get comfortable. “I will send Cynric ahead to Aethelflaed and prepare her for their arrival-”

“What will you tell _them_ , Lord?” Osferth offered, hesitantly, eyes still lingering on the children.

“I-” 

But Uhtred shook his head, swallowing, the words not immediately coming to him. Lucia frowned and reached for him, her hand covering his. He looked up and she could see the conflict brewing behind his eyes, the uncertainty, and she knew how painful this choice was for him- and knowing he had to make it alone, no wife to help guide him. 

“You will tell them the truth,” she suggested, softly. “They know who their father is, Lord. And they will know you made this decision to protect them.”

Uhtred squeezed her hand tightly and he nodded as he held her gaze.

“Sihtric- prepare Cynric,” he said, then, a wave of resolution settling into his features. “He leaves immediately. No one else must know of his destination. When the storm ceases, we will make the trip-”

Sihtric nodded and with a flash he was gone through the double doors, the crackling of thunder working its way into the Main Hall as the doors swung shut behind him. 

“Everythin’ll be alright,” Finan said, resting his hand on Uhtred’s shoulder. 

“Saltwic is the best place for them,” Uhtred replied. “It is out of the way- safe enough for the time being. And it will not be permanent-”

“We will send more scouts, Lord,” Osferth said, his hands fidgeting at the cross that hung from his neck. “We will learn more of these Danes-”

“Aye, we’ll know everythin’ about ‘em,” Finan agreed. 

As Lucia shifted back, her hands resting again on the swell of her belly, she felt a warm tingling between her legs. She twisted, frowning, her thighs tightening as a wetness crept into the fabric of her shift. A small gasp of breath passed through her lips when she realized what had happened. 

“Lucia?” She looked up, her eyes finding her husband, the Irishman looking to her with a concerned glance. “Are ya alright?”

“Yes-” she chuckled nervously, her hand bracing against the edge of the table. “But you might want to fetch Mathilda- I think our baby wants to be here before you go-”

\--

Magdalena was born on a bright and sunny morning at the very start of summer, the delivery exhaustive and painful but otherwise uneventful. Lucia labored for only a handful of hours from the comfort of her own bed, privately, with Mathilda and Hild at her bedside and Ealhswith coaching her through it. It had been nothing like she expected and everything she had hoped for, the women in her life surrounding her with unabashed support. When she finally held Magdalenda in her arms, she couldn’t fathom how much she already reminded her of Finan. 

Magdalena met her father after more than a few rounds of ale, Uhtred and Sihtric plying the Irishman with drink while Osferth assured him everything would be alright, Finan frantic and overwhelmed by the whole thing. But the moment he took hold of Magdalena, perched on the bedside beside his wife, his whole body settled and Lucia had never seen him more at ease.

The birth of their son would prove to be a much different experience.

The pain came almost immediately, as if the crashing of thunder and the strike of lightning outside was only an indicator of the wrath her body would wrought against her as she went into labor this time. She could not lift herself from her seat, Finan rushing around to her side of the table as Osferth ran to find Mathilda. It took both Finan and Uhtred to get her up the stairs to the loft, Lucia making a poorly timed joke about the last time an emergency left Uhtred without his bed. 

Neither of the men found it as funny as they eased her onto the mattress, Finan cursing under his breath as Lucia apologized for the spot of blood that began to stain the sheets. She did not expect the ache that settled into her belly, nor the lightness that began to overtake her.

She was finding it hard to collect her thoughts, her brain not quite focusing, and she blinked as whiteness filled her peripheral, brow creasing as she tried to right her vision. She reached out, Finan’s name falling from her lips, and she was grateful to feel the warmth of his touch as she sank back into the pillows.

“It’s alright, darlin’-” he whispered, voice sounding stricken.

“This baby’s a little early, Lucia,” came Mathilda’s voice and she could almost laugh at the chiding tone the healer used if it were not for the ache that was surging through her groin. “Come now, Irishman, let me get to work-”

But Finan’s grip on Lucia’s hand only tightened and she smiled softly at the pressure.

“How can I leave her?” he asked, voice rough. 

“She is in safe hands, Finan-”

Hild’s voice was calm and quiet, her hand curving around Finan’s shoulder. 

“This is not a place for men,” Mathilda said, nodding her head toward Uhtred who still hovered at the foot of the bed. “You might think you can handle it- but this is not like war, boy. It is much different, and not as easy to swallow-”

Another surge of pain rattled through her and Lucia let out a cry, startled by the intensity of it. She grit her teeth, willing her body to settle itself, to think of the breathing technique Ealhswith had taught her the last time. But she was beginning to worry that this was not going to be like the last time and with a panicked glance she gripped her husband’s hand, knowing Mathilda was right- he could not be here beside her. 

“It’s alright, my love,” she breathed. “Go- take care of Magdalena-”

“But Lucia-”

“Your wife is strong,” the Healer said pointedly. “And Hild and I- we’ve done this more times than you could imagine. Lord Uhtred, take your friend out of here and let us deliver this baby-”

Uhtred leaned forward, his hand squeezing at Lucia’s ankle for a brief moment, the touch just enough to cause her to meet his gaze. He offered her a smile, meant to be reassuring, she was sure- but she could see the fear behind his eyes and she wondered if she reminded him of Gisela, his wife. Lucia pressed her lips together, biting back the urge to cry, hoping that she would not meet the same fate. 

“Finan,” Uhtred said, softly, his hand gripping at the Irishman’s forearm. “We must go. This is a joyous moment, for we will meet your next child soon- but we must let them do what they can to take care of your wife.” 

“I love ya,” Finan said, his mouth warm against her skin as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be just outside with Magda, we’ll be right here waitin’ for ya-”

“I love you,” Lucia managed, smiling weakly at him. 

The men descended the stairs but not without Finan pausing to look back at her one last time. She could cry at the way he lingered, the way his fingers flexed before they gripped at the banister, Uhtred clasping his hand on his shoulder to guide him away from the loft. But almost immediately, Hild was by her side, the abbess perching herself on the mattress next to Lucia, helping to guide her into more of a sitting position. 

“You know what to do, Lucia,” Mathilda said as she positioned herself at the foot of the bed. “This is just like last time- you’ll push when I say, you hear me?”

Lucia nodded, though she could not help but spare a glance to Hild, eyes unblinking as the abbess offered a small, encouraging smile. “It does not feel like it did last time-”

“But we will ensure the result is the same,” Hild replied firmly.

She resolved herself, shifting her attention back to Mathilda, bracing herself as another shot of pain coursed through her, a scream emitting from her lips as she dug her hand into the mattress. She was strong- Mathilda had said as much from the day she met her, all that time ago- she _could_ do this. She pressed her eyes closed, doing her best to ignore the way the sheets turned dark with blood, holding onto Hild’s hand as it slid into her grip. She could hear the abbess whisper encouraging words as she pressed a cool cloth to her forehead.

“Another push,” Mathilda ordered. 

Lucia could not tell how long she had been in labor, how many hours had passed, but the storm was beginning to quiet and the heavy patter of raindrops on the roof had calmed. A darkness fell over the loft, the sun having set hours before, and candles were all that lit the room. The only sounds were the soft whines of pain from Lucia and words murmured between Mathilda and Hild, words that Lucia could not decipher as she willed her body to stay with her. 

“That’s it,” the Healer continued. “Just one more-”

She grit her teeth and with all her strength she gave another push, her fingernails digging into Hild’s skin as she held onto the abbess. Her body shook and her chest heaved but in that moment, she could hear the startled cries of a baby emerging into the world. She sighed as she tried to steady her breathing. She did it.

“You’ve got a little boy, Lucia,” Hild breathed, the abbess reaching to brush a sweat drenched tendril of hair behind her ear. “He’s beautiful-”

“Is he alright?” Lucia asked, an exhaustion seeping into her skin. “Is he okay?”

“He’s as healthy as can be,” Mathilda assured. 

A wave of relief washed through her, and it was all Lucia could do to sink back into the pillows. She pressed her hand to her chest as she felt her heartbeat start to slow. She swallowed, her eyes blinking shut as she tried to suck in a breath, something to inject a little bit of life back into her body, hot tears welling in her eyes. But she felt she was starting to fade and a soft sigh passed through her lips as everything turned to black.

\--

Lucia woke slowly, as if feeling was returning to her in a tepid crawl, her fingers twitching ever so slightly. She felt heavy, her body weighed down by something invisible, and she wanted to cry out but she couldn’t seem to find much of a voice, her throat tight and sore. She opened her eyes to find that she was no longer in Uhtred’s bed but her own and there was a cry coming from just outside the bedroom, an infant’s cry- her son’s. 

“Aye, wee man, yer alright-” 

Finan’s voice was gentle and she could hear his soft shushing as he tried to soothe their son, the hardwood floors creaking under his pacing. 

The door cracked open and Lucia could hear the patter of little feet approaching. Magdalena seemed almost hesitant to come closer, the toddler lingering at the foot of the bed, and it pained her to see the pause in her tiny features. She held her hand out for her daughter, offering her a sort of half-smile. 

“Magdalena,” she attempted, her voice rather thick and scratchy. “Mama is okay, I promise.”

“You were sleepin’ for a long time,” Magdalena whispered. “Daidí has been real sad-”

“Oh, cara, come here,” Lucia sighed. 

The little girl scrambled up onto the bed, the mattress shifting under the change in weight and she crawled toward her mother before tucking herself under Lucia’s arm. She sighed as she ran her hand along her daughter’s curls, wondering just how long was long in the eyes of her two year old. She couldn’t quite understand what happened after the birth and was desperate for answers. 

But before she could ask Magdalena anything further, a voice filled their quiet bedroom.

“Yer awake-”

Her husband stood in the doorway, their son cradled against his chest, and there was a sense of surprise in his voice. The way his brow furrowed brought a lump to her throat, as if there was a thought that she wouldn’t come back to him. A breathless laugh fell from his lips as he ran his free hand over his mouth, tugging at his beard.

He was by her side in only a few steps and she couldn’t help but hold her arms out for the baby she never got a proper chance to meet. He was quiet now, softly cooing as she took him in her arms and Lucia blinked back tears as she finally got to hold her son. Finan climbed into the bed beside her and she couldn’t help but curl up against him. He wrapped his arm around her, pressing a kiss to her temple with a tenderness that brought a good kind of ache to her bones. 

Her eyes traveled over her son, taking stock of the now familiar thick patch of black hair, a feature all her children were likely going to inherit from their father. But there was something about his nose that almost made her laugh, the shape bringing her own father’s voice to her mind- that Roman shaped nose all Bonaventures seemed to have.

She looked back to Finan, brow furrowing. “How long was I-" but she found it was hard to finish that sentence.

“A few days,” he said quietly and she could see the tension he carried in his face, the new lines at the corners of his eyes. “Ya lost a lotta blood- Mathilda didn’t wanna move ya but I couldn’t leave ya in the Main Hall like that, away from the rest of us, so I carried ya here. If anythin’ was to happen, I wanted ya home.”

"I am sure Lord Uhtred was pleased to have his bed back," Lucia mused, then, looking for a little levity.

"That is not funny, Lucia," Finan sighed, leaning his head back against the headboard.

"I am still here, my love," she said, nudging him softly in the side. 

"For a moment, I thought-" But he did not finish his statement. He sucked in a breath and pulled her tightly against him, his hand brushing her hair from her face as he pressed another kiss to her forehead. "It doesn't matter now- yer here and yer alright and we're alright-"

She met his gaze and the warmth behind his eyes soothed her, his steadiness breathing life back into her body. She offered him a small nod, a smile curving at her lips. “When do you leave for Saltwic?”

“They left yesterday,” he replied with a wave of his hand. “Before dusk.”

“And you didn’t go?” 

“Bleatin’ hell, darlin'- why would I do that?” the Irishman asked, exasperated. “I couldn’t leave ya- what if ya woke and I wasn’t here? What if somethin’ worse happened-” 

Lucia glanced down at their daughter, the little girl oddly silent as she watched her parents talk, Magdalena resting her chin in her hands as she listened. “Well, something worse did not happen-”

“Ya know those men are my family,” Finan continued. “They’re my brothers. But they wouldn’t ask me to leave ya, not like this. They’ve got a dozen men with ‘em and they’ll be back in a few days. My only duty right now is to this family- my wife, my children, those bloody chickens-”

Lucia laughed and her eyes fell again to their son. “Did you pick a name?”

“I wouldn’t without ya,” he said, shaking his head. 

“I like the one you thought of,” she told him, fingers grazing against the baby’s cheek. 

“Eion?”

“It’s perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of a time jump! It's been amazing to see Lucia come to this place- from not having anyone to now having a fully formed family. It's lovely. I hope you guys are excited for the last chapter!! I can't believe we're almost done.
> 
> "Cara" is an affectionate pet name in Latin, like dear or darling. "Daidí" is father/dad in Irish.


	25. epilogue

“You are short, Anfeald.”

The merchant stiffened, twisting his neck back toward Lucia, his foot hovering over the steps leading down to his boat. He lingered there for a moment, as if he were weighing whether or not he should leap to his escape and take to the river. Edric took a step forward, hand on the hilt of his sword, the weight of his movement creaking the wooden boards beneath his boot. The merchant took a slow step backward and he chuckled softly, his head shaking as he turned to face them both.

“What might you mean, Lady?”

“Your shipment does not fill our order,” Lucia said with a tight smile.

“Are you certain?” Anfaeld questioned, brows raised. “Did I not deliver fifty new pieces?”

“You did not,” she sighed, growing tired suddenly. “And yet we paid in full-” 

“No, you must have miscounted,” the merchant said, turning back toward his boat. 

“Anfeald, do you think I am stupid?” Lucia asked, her arms crossing against her chest. 

“Of course not, Lady,” he replied, but there was a spark of something behind his eyes that told her otherwise. “I believe a mistake might be made by anyone, especially a busy Lady of the House.”

Lucia did not have to look to Edric to see the warrior attempt another step forward, her arm springing out to draw a line between him and the offending merchant, her hand laid flat against his cuirass. She shook her head and instead crossed the dock herself, her arms crossing against her chest. The merchant drew his shoulders up as she approached, a curve of a smirk tugging at his lips.

“You will return the pieces of silver we overpaid,” she said. “And you will fulfill the rest of our request free of charge upon your next visit. Or you will leave with your balls in your hands, Anfeald, and you will never be welcome at this dock again.”

The merchant began to laugh and Lucia’s nose flinched as his rotten breath felt hot on her skin. With quiet resignation, she unsheathed her dagger and pressed it against his belly. His laughter stifled itself as his eyes followed where the point of her blade dug against the waist of his breeches.

“I am not an enemy you wish to have,” she said quietly. “And know that I will be gentle compared to the Lord of Coccham when he finds out you tried to steal from him-”

“The Dane Slayer has returned?” Anfeald gulped. 

“He has-”

Lucia froze. She knew that voice. 

She twisted, nearly nicking the merchant with her dagger as she found Uhtred standing at the shore. A flicker of amusement flashed across his face as he met her eyes, his chin tilting back just slightly as he laughed. She could see his horse lingering by the gates, and could hear the hooves that beat upon the ground at what she hoped was the rest of the group arriving behind him. A wide smile pulled at her lips as she turned back to face the merchant, the man nearly shaking now.

“Edric,” she called as she sheathed her dagger. “Come collect what is owed, please.”

The warrior did not have to take too many steps forward before the merchant was tossing the bag of silver in its entirety to him. He said nothing more as he scrambled away to his boat to avoid any further confrontation.

“Do you threaten all of our merchants in my absence?” Uhtred asked as she approached.

“Only those who try to take advantage,” she said simply. “Where is my husband?” 

“I have missed you, too, Lady Lucia,” Uhtred said with a furrow of his brow, though a smile still lingered even among the tiny cuts and bruises she noticed littered his face.

“As you should have,” she replied, narrowing her eyes at him. “It has been near seven  _ months _ since you left for Bebbanburg and we’ve received not a single letter in that time- and then this messenger arrives from Winchester talking of a  _ siege _ ? Do you know how worried I have been?”

“There is much to discuss,” he sighed, his eyes averting her gaze. “So much that I do not know how to even share with you now.” 

Lucia frowned and she could feel her stomach begin to tighten as worry crept into her bones. “Uhtred? What happened? Where are the others?”

Her question seemed to summon their arrival and Lucia’s heart tightened in her chest as Finan led the group toward the gates. He was alright. His hair seemed a little long and his clothes a mess, but he was there in all his wholeness. She blinked when she noticed the little boy riding with him, his face reminding her of someone she could not place. 

Osferth, Sihtric, and Osbert followed shortly along with a woman Lucia did not recognize. From the distance she stood, she could only make out her fierce red hair and a purple cloak draped across her shoulders. She pressed her lips together in a tight line as she watched Finan help her from her horse, the way the woman gripped his arms making Lucia’s stomach flip. 

Uhtred clasped his hand around her shoulder and she looked back to him, startled from her reverie, slightly embarrassed. 

“He spoke only of you this entire ride home,” he told her quietly.

“Lucia!”

Finan was bounding toward her and she felt foolish to worry for even a second as he swept her into his arms and off the ground, the light behind his eyes bringing a warmth to her skin as he embraced her. She wrapped herself around him, not bothering to blink back the tears that began to well in the corners of her eyes, knowing that she was lucky again and again to have her husband return to her when so many other women in the village were not. 

“My God, have I missed ya,” he whispered, his lips lingering against hers. “Are ya alright?”

“Are  _ you _ ?” she asked, her feet finding the ground once again. Her eyes traveled over her husband, studying every new mark she could see, every tear in his tunic and trousers, her hands reaching to cup the side of his face. “My love, look at you- how many new scars did you acquire?”

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he chuckled, his hand curving around her wrist, his thumb grazing against her skin. “But I’m in one piece, I promise.”

“Good, because you both have a lot of explaining to do,” she said.

\--

Lucia blinked.

“Stiorra is  _ where _ ?”

Uhtred sighed, his hand rubbing roughly across his jaw as he shared a long look with Finan. The Irishman merely shrugged his shoulders in response before offering his wife a sheepish glance. Lucia’s brow furrowed as she considered the two men, neither of them looking particularly pleased as Uhtred reached this part of their tale. She clicked her tongue, her head shaking as she thought of Stiorra, locked up within the walls of Winchester for more than ninety days while men let their egos battle.

“How is it your daughter became the bargaining piece in all of this?” she continued, her hands wringing in her lap. “After all it is you went through to protect Aelfwynn-”

“It is the cost of peace,” Uhtred said, though his voice felt stiff. 

Lucia rolled her eyes. Peace. She wondered how eager Aethelflaed would be to negotiate if Aelfwynn was meant to travel to Eoforwic with Sigtrygger instead of Stiorra.

“Aye but I think Stiorra’s a wee bit smitten,” Finan assured, his large hand wrapping around Lucia’s fidgeting ones, soothing her anxious movements. She raised her eyebrows as she considered him, the smile curving at his lips infectious. “I wouldn’t be surprised if this was her idea- ya know she’s always been itchin’ for an adventure-” 

“She would not be the first woman to make a decision in favor of a charming man in armor, that is true,” she admitted, sighing in spite of herself. 

“And thank God for that,” the Irishman said with a gleam behind his eyes that somehow still drew a flush of heat to Lucia’s skin even all these years later.

“What of Aethelstan, Lord?” Lucia asked, curious about the quiet little boy she met in the courtyard, the resemblance to Edward clicking so furiously upon meeting she was surprised it took her time at all to recognize him. 

“I made a promise,” Uhtred said, resting his elbows against his knees as he leaned forward. “He will become my charge- and I will teach him of the North as the King instructed. But he will learn as I choose, not as an aetheling.” 

“When?”

Her question was answered with silence and she watched as Uhtred and Finan shared another look, the two warriors seemingly having an entire conversation without words. This unspoken language usually fascinated Lucia, and she marveled at how easily they could read each other. But at this moment, after seven months of separation from her husband, she found herself growing irritated.

“ _ When _ ?” she repeated. 

“Soon,” Uhtred answered finally, not quite able to meet her eyes. “Once the bitterness of winter wanes, we will travel to Northumbria and Aethelstan will learn what it takes to be a warrior.”

Lucia chewed on her bottom lip as she considered this, her hands shifting from Finan’s embrace as she pressed her fingers to mouth, mulling over the few short months she would have before they disappeared again. She looked to Finan, frowning as she took in the apprehension on her husband’s face, the creases of concern at the corner of his eyes. No. She would not do this again.

“You cannot travel to Northumbria with the heir to the throne as a band of warriors,” she told him, drawing her shoulders back. “If Aethelstan is in as much danger as you propose, Lord Aethelhelm’s spies will surely know when Uhtred the Dane Slayer departs with a boy who is not his son-”

“Lucia-”

But she only shook her head, her hand waving off her husband’s interjection.

“We will travel with you, Lord,” she carried on. “All of us. Let Osferth and Sihtric bring their wives. If we are a caravan traveling to visit your daughter in Eoforwic, perhaps we will draw fewer eyes. What is one more child when we already have half a dozen amongst us?”

“And what of Coccham, Lady?” Uhtred mused, raising his brows. “Who will run the village in our absence?”

“Hild,” she shrugged. “The abbess knows how to manage this estate better than anyone.”

“Better than even the Ealdorman?” Uhtred offered.

“Especially so,” Lucia said simply. “And you would agree.” 

Finan tugged at his beard, a smile teasing at his mouth. “It’s a sound idea, Lord.”

“It is an absurd idea, Finan,” Uhtred countered before smiling brightly. “But it might work.”

\--

“How much time do we have before dinner?”

A soft moan fell from her lips as Lucia tilted her head back, allowing Finan more access as he trailed warm kisses against the crook of her neck. They hardly made it into their cottage before he had her against the wall, his hands seemingly everywhere as he pressed his body against hers. She had missed the weight of him, the feel of him beneath her touch. She gripped at his broad shoulders as she laughed, his beard tickling her skin in a way that shot a delightful tingle through her body.

“It is not dinner we have to worry about,” she breathed. “It’s when the children find us-”

“Then we oughta be quick-”

She let out a peel of laughter as he scooped her up in his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist as he moved across the main room and into the back bedroom, his foot kicking the door shut behind them. In the privacy of their own room, he hesitated just before the bed, his hand tangling in her hair as he kissed her, lips rough and eager for her, as if he could make up for all the months he had been gone. She hummed against his mouth, her hands already working at the ties of his cuirass. She couldn’t stop thinking of the time lost between them, the seven months of sleeping without him in their bed, of waking every morning and wondering when he would return. 

With his armor littering the floor, Finan sat on the edge of the bed with Lucia still in his lap, his arms working to hike up the skirts of her dress, his calloused hands running along her bare thighs as she worked at the ties of his breeches. She couldn’t let her mouth leave his even for a moment, her teeth catching at his bottom lip as she could feel his hardness in her hand. She dug her hips against him as she began to stroke him and relished the groan that fell from his lips.

“I missed you, too,” she said softly. 

“There was a moment I thought I might’ve-” Finan’s voice caught for a moment and she slowed her movements, her hands moving to rest against his chest as she considered her husband. “Haesten and his men- they caught us and all I could think of was ya here and the children- I was scared, Lucia, of losin’ ya-”

“My love,” she whispered, pressing soft kisses to his cheeks, his nose, his forehead. “You came home to me- just like you promised you would. It is all I could ask for.”

“I love ya,” he said, his fingers digging into her flesh. “More than anythin’-”

“Show me.” 

Her hands trailed down his chest, fingers working up the edge of his tunic. She teased at the bare skin beneath the fabric, feeling the way his abs constricted under the bite of her nails. It didn’t take very long before their clothes lay on the floor and with a quiet finesse, Finan had her on her back, eyes drinking in every inch of her as he knelt before her.

“Yer beautiful,” he told her.

She smiled as she pulled him closer, Finan fitting perfectly between her legs. 

“You always say that.”

“It’s always true,” he grinned.

She meant to argue further but a breathless sort of gasp interrupted all coherent thoughts as his fingers teased at her entrance. She arched her back against his touch, breath catching as he slid a finger inside of her, and then another, his thumb working at her most sensitive spot. His eyes were bright as he held her gaze and she could hardly contain the moan that fell from her lips as he increased his pace, Lucia leaning forward to catch his mouth with her own, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as she clung to him.

“You have been gone too long to tease me like this,” she groaned.

He laughed against her lips as his free arm curved around her lower waist, bringing her back into his lap. “Ya want me that badly, eh?”

She rocked her hips against his hand, gripping his shoulders tightly.

“I do,” she breathed. “You know I do.”

“I’ve been gone a long time, darlin’,” he said. “Say that again-”

“I want you,  _ mi vir _ ,” she said, her voice faltering as his fingers curved just slightly inside of her, a shock of pleasure coursing through her body. “I want all of you-”

A small whine passed through her lips as he slid his fingers from her wetness, but Lucia was flush with heat and want and wasted no time in hitching her hips up just slightly as he wrapped his hand around his cock to guide himself inside of her. She sucked in a breath as she let herself slide down the length of him and he made a sound akin to a growl as he grabbed her roughly around the waist.

Their movements were no longer steady and teasing but rough and quick, Finan and Lucia working their hips in a frantic rhythm as they clung to each other. She cupped his face in her hands, kissing him desperately as she clenched her thighs against his waist, finding the warmth of him inside of her overwhelming after all this time apart, her only outlet while he was away her own hand in the quiet of the night. 

His hands curved around her ass as he held her tightly against him, the perfect kind of tension emanating between their bodies as they moved against each other. She could feel her peak quickly approaching and she increased the pace of her movements, her head tilting back as Finan’s teeth nipped at the crook of her neck. She cried out as her orgasm rippled through her, her eyes fluttering shut, every inch of her tingling.

“Lucia-” but her husband’s words were cut short as his body spasmed against hers, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her ass as he bucked his hips up into hers. “Fuck-”

They collapsed onto the bed, both of them catching their breath as they lay side by side, the mess of sweat and sex they created staining the sheets but neither of them seemed to care. Finan let out a bark of laughter as he rubbed his face with his hands and she could sense the weight lifting from his shoulders, the tension easing from his body. She turned to face him, propping herself up on her elbow as a contented sigh fell from her lips.

“It is a shame we cannot lay here for the rest of the night,” she said dreamily.

“Who says?” he grinned.

\--

“Are you sure we should go with the fish?”

“Auden, I cannot eat dinner with it staring back at me,” Lucia said, nose wrinkling. “You can serve Lord Uhtred the roast boar another night- when I am quite far from the Main Hall-”

“Very well, Lady,” the cook said with a sigh. “Supper will be ready before the sun sets-”

She laughed as she watched the older man mutter to himself as he shuffled back toward the kitchen. She was certain the staff of the Main Hall were quite pleased to have Uhtred back; he was far less specific about how things were meant to run. While she was forever grateful Uhtred trusted her enough to help handle the goings-on of Coccham, being the Lady of the House while the men were gone gave her an almost overwhelming amount of work to do, on top of being a mother to two unruly children. She was relieved to have a reprieve.

“Lucia-”

With a contented sigh she spun on her heel at the sound of her friend’s voice only to find Hild was not alone, but standing beside the red-haired woman from earlier. She’d had a bath and a change of clothing- worn gray robes that reminded Lucia of her first night in Coccham- and her hair was tied in a neat braid that hung down her back. She could not forget what Finan told her earlier while they were laying in bed- he would not be alive without her. 

She gave them both a tight smile. “Hild.”

“I want you to meet Eadith,” the abbess said, her eyes lingering just slightly on the woman beside her, a hint of a smile playing at her lips. “She will be staying with us at the nunnery while she settles in.”

“Lady Lucia, it is a pleasure to finally meet you,” Eadith replied primly, stiffly, as if she were unsure of herself. “I have never spent so much time around men where all they did was talk of their wives-”

“That is because we have trained them well,” she teased, features softening. 

“It was a relief,” Eadith admitted, with a hint of a smile. “I never once felt unsafe-”

“We’re happy to have you in Coccham, Eadith,” Lucia told her.

“I am happy to have somewhere to be,” Eadith said, and she noticed the way her hands flexed at her sides. “Truthfully, I was unsure of where I would go and I was very grateful to Lord Uhtred for his invitation.”

“Coccham is a home for all souls,” Hild offered and Lucia did not miss the knowing look the abbess sent her way.

“Yes, it certainly has been,” Lucia laughed. 

The woman who stood before her suddenly felt very familiar to her. Like another lost creature in need of a new home, a new kind of path. The men who saved her in the wood, the Lord who has spent a lifetime trying to forge his own path- they would never be able to say no to someone on the same mission. A swell of empathy coursed through her and she couldn’t help but reach for her, hands curving around Eadith’s shoulders.

“Finan told me what you did,” she said quietly. “Thank you-”

“Oh-” and the surprise that flickered in Eadith’s voice was clear. “I- well, of course-”

And with another step, she pulled the other woman into a hug, squeezing her tightly. The stiffness she sensed in Eadith seemed to go slack and soon she was hugging Lucia back.

“You are going to break another rib,” Hild said pointedly.

“Oh, right, yes-” Lucia laughed, stepping back. “I’m sorry- the days when the men return are always rather emotional for me. Come, I am sure dinner is almost ready and I am afraid I have convinced Lord Uhtred of an idea that will leave you incredibly irritated, Hild-” 

“Oh, for Heaven’s sake,” the abbess sighed. “You’re supposed to help mitigate the bad ideas.” 

“Aye, she’s about as off her rocker as Uhtred is, ya know that, abbess-” 

Finan’s voice broke through the Main Hall and Lucia smiled as she found him standing in the doorway of the large double doors. He grinned and she could see the faint lines crinkle at the corners of his eyes. “Well, you married me,” she shrugged.

“Indeed I did,” the Irishman replied proudly. “Supper ready yet?”

It was not much later that the Main Hall was crowded with more people than it had seen in months, the dining table filled with Sihtric and Ealhswith and Tore, Osferth and Ama, Hild, Eadith, Finan, Lucia and Uhtred sitting at the head. There was a decidedly empty seat across from Lucia, the same seat Beocca always sat in, and his absence felt heavy as dinner was served. But there was a new presence among them, playing with the rest of the children on the other side of the room. 

He was around the same age as Magdalena and Revna, and it did not take the children long to bring Aethelstan into the fold- Eion and Leofric delighted to have another boy to add to the group. It didn’t even matter who he was, none of the children really caring all that much, the excitement of a new friend enough for the night. 

Lucia watched them with a full heart, imagining the caravan they would be all traveling north.

That is, if Uhtred could convince Ealhswith and Ama to leave everything they knew in Coccham behind for an adventure- to the part of England ruled by Danes and threatened by Scots, the part of England that was now home to Stiorra. 

“Well, when do we leave?”

Sihtric tilted his head, brow furrowing as he spared his wife a glance.

“What?” Ealhswith shrugged her shoulders. “I could use a bit of a change of scenery-”

“I would not mind returning north,” Ama said wistfully, as she curled up closer to Osferth. “We could show Leofric where I was born-”

“And there is the site of St. Oswald,” Osferth offered. “And Carrawburgh Fort-”

“We’re teachin’ the wee one to be a warrior, not a priest,” Finan countered, shaking his head.

“You’re all certain?” Uhtred asked, raising his eyebrows, surprised he did not have to do as much convincing as he and Lucia had suspected. 

“Uhtred- if you are all to go off to Northumbria, what will happen to Coccham?” Hild asked.

“You will do as you always do,” Uhtred grinned. “You will lead. You know the people here like you more than they do me-”

“While I will not argue with that,” the abbess sighed. “-I am not certain I could do it alone.”

Eadith shifted in her seat.

“I can help,” she said, eyes flickering among the rest of the faces at the table. “If it would not offend you, Lord, I am rather tired of traveling myself. And I have done my fair share of estate running before my father- well, I would be happy to stay behind and help Hild.”

“Then it is settled,” Uhtred clapped his hands. “We are going north.”

\--

“Is it too wild an idea?” 

“Come here, darlin’-”

Lucia shifted closer to Finan, leaning her body against his as his arm wrapped around her waist. She tucked her legs underneath her body as she curled up against him, letting her lungs fill up with the crisp night air. The children were sleeping, tucked away in their beds, worn out and exhausted from the excitement of the day. The quiet of the house led them outside, and the dock enticed them with the bright night sky and soft rush of the water. 

Finan narrowed his brow as he considered her, dark eyes studying her briefly. “It’s a bit of a risk-” he relented. “We’re fourteen of us and a good portion are still a bit too small to carry a weapon-”

“You gave our daughter a dagger before you left,” Lucia reminded him.

“A lady should always be armed,” Finan replied simply. “Even a wee one.” 

“Do you think the journey will be that dangerous?”

“Ya know we’ve a habit of attractin’ that sort of thing-”

“You’re right,” Lucia sighed. “It’s a bad idea.”

Finan shifted, twisting his body to properly face her, his hand cupping gently beneath her chin. His touch felt warm against her skin. “It’s smart- and it’ll keep the wee man safe. Besides, he could use a bit of playtime with the rest of our brood-”

“You know, he seems very fond of you,” she said, tilting her head. 

“He reminded me a bit of Eion,” Finan told her, a hint of a smile curving at the corner of his mouth. “He’s a wicked little one- but he’s brave and kind. I dunno what Edward wants from him, but he deserves a good life, better than rottin’ away at that monastery.”

“You are a good man, my love,” Lucia said, voice soft. 

A flush of pink hit her husband’s skin as he chuckled sheepishly. “Aye, but who knew I’d be lucky enough to have an even better woman by my side?”

“You don’t have to sweeten me up, you know,” she teased, a shiver prickling her skin as the wind began to rustle the trees around them. “You’ve already got me.”

“Now, who says that’s what I’m doin’?” he asked, feigning innocence.

“Do you think after ten years I don’t know your games by now, Finan?”

“Will ya just kiss me already?”

“You know, I’m not sure I-” 

But before she could finish she found Finan’s mouth crashing against hers, the warmth of his lips leaving her skin hot even in the cool night air. She leaned into his embrace and his arms tightened around her, neither of them paying the journey north any more attention, both of them too busy making up for all that lost time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it, folks! 
> 
> For now. 👀
> 
> But seriously, this was such an unexpected joy for me over the last six months- the last thing i thought I would do in a pandemic is write a long ass fic like this. But it's been incredible and you guys have been such an incredible lot to stick with it and continually give me such great feedback. Thank you SO much. And especially thank you to the enablers who have been the biggest support.


End file.
